


After the Storm

by Butterfly_girl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Ignis, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Poor Prompto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-14 07:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 69,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly_girl/pseuds/Butterfly_girl
Summary: In Altissia, Prompto is rescued by Gladio after being badly injured.  Whilst he recovers in hospital, he has to deal with Gladio’s anger, Noct’s loss and Ignis’ blindness, as well as coming to terms with the aftermath of his own injuries. Throughout all this, his relationship with Ignis is the one thing that gives him the strength to keep fighting for his recovery.





	1. Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Prompto wakes up, he is alone and in pain, with no memory of what has happened to him. Thoughts of Ignis keep him fighting for his life, but it is this enough to save him?

When Prompto woke up, he knew straight away that things weren’t quite right. Where was he? Last he remembered, he was…actually he couldn’t even recall his last memory. Not clearly, at least. A hotel room, maybe? Wherever he had been, he was sure he wasn’t there now. This surface was hard and cold and damp, and he had no recollection of how he had ended up there. 

His mind felt fuzzy- he was sure that he wasn’t dreaming but at the same time he didn’t feel fully awake either, like he was caught in some sort of limbo between sleep and wakefulness. The more he tried to focus, to concentrate on what was going on around him, the more his head hurt. A deep, painful stabbing sensation at the back of his skull. He couldn’t remember getting injured but… surely it had to be some sort of injury- a bad one- to cause him this much pain. 

Where was everyone? Why was he alone? A familiar feeling of panic began to rise in Prompto’s chest. Until that moment, the air around him had been filled with nothing but silence but now he could hear the pounding of his heart behind his ribcage- fast and uncontrolled. His muscles clenched tightly as the uncomfortable, knotted feeling that he was so used to formed in his stomach. He tried to focus on the things around him; noticing the small, insignificant details helped anchor him to reality, stopped him slipping further into himself, into his own thoughts and anxiety. It had been Ignis’ suggestion the first time he had discovered him curled into a ball in the corner of his bedroom, right in the midst of one of his panic attacks. Even during the incident, when he often became unaware of everything else going on around him, Prompto had the foresight to feel embarrassed. He remembered feeling ashamed that someone he barely knew was seeing him like this, stripped bare of his usual happy-go-lucky persona, the full extent of the damage he could never quite escape exposed to the world. Ignis however had, unsurprisingly, taken it all in his stride- taking his hands and breathing deeply with him, soothing away the fear that sometimes seemed to override every other emotion. It helped then. And it had helped on most occasions since. 

But Ignis wasn’t here now. So Prompto searched for something, anything to keep him from slipping into the darkness. He spread his palms across the cold, damp ground, pressed the small of his back into the floor and listened to the silence. He had learnt that- even in the most empty of places- there was always something, some tiny sound to grasp on to. Even silence had a sound. He listened and clung with all his remaining strength to reality as his breathing slowly returned to normal. 

As he lay there, listening to the silence, Prompto tried to remember, tried to fight past the cloudy, muddy sensation that consumed his thoughts. But the more he tried, the more overwhelming the pain became. He thought of Noct and Gladio- he couldn’t just abandon them now, not after everything they’d been through. But mostly, he thought of Iggy. His Iggy. Prompto could feel himself slipping, falling… he knew that he couldn’t just wait- wait for help that might never come. He couldn’t just die. He wouldn’t let that happen. He needed to know, needed to feel how bad his injuries were. If there was nobody around to help him, he would have to figure things out himself. 

He tried to lift his hand to touch the back of his head, where he supposed the injury was. Nothing happened. No matter how hard he tried, his arm refused to move. He felt like he had lost all control of his body. Why couldn’t he move? What was happening to him? Why couldn’t he remember? He could feel his breathing speed up again, faster and more out of control than before. His throat was closing up and Prompto found himself gasping for breath, as if his head was being pushed underwater. Red spots began to form in front of his eyes, behind his eyelids. Even as he tried to focus, tried to breathe more deeply, counting in and out to slow down his breaths, he could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. Why wasn’t the breathing working? He willed himself to call out for help but- in spite of his effort- his voice didn’t appear to be working either. He couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. And there was nobody around to help him…

*********

He woke again, not knowing how much time had passed. The pain in his head was still there, but this time it was more of a deep, persistent throbbing- more bearable at least than the stabbing pain he had felt previously. He was somewhere different- that much he could tell. The smell, the sounds, the softness underneath his head and back…he felt safe. Safer at least. He tried to open his eyes. He still couldn’t think straight but at least if he could see where he was he might be able to remember something. His eyelids wouldn’t budge, as if they were glued together. He let out a small moan of frustration. 

“Back with us, Blondie?” It was Gladio. So Noctis was there too? And Iggy? If Ignis was there, everything would be alright. Ignis always made everything alright. He felt a rush of relief flow through him: he was alive, things were going to be OK! He felt a hand touch his arm, strong fingers closing over his wrist, on top of the wristband he always wore. The contact would have made him flinch if he had been able to move. He let out another moan and tried to force open his eyes again. 

“Don’t try to move, kid. You’re in the hospital but you’ve had a rough couple of days. The doc says you’re doing well though. It’s just gonna take a bit of time to get you…” There was a pause. Something was wrong, he knew it. Gladio was never lost for words but here he was- speechless. “To get you back to your old self,” Gladio finished. Prompto wanted to cry out, wanted to scream at Gladio to just tell him what was really wrong. But his mouth wouldn’t form the words. 

“I’m sorry, kid,” Gladio was still speaking. Why was he still talking? “It’s gonna be OK. I’m gonna help you get better. Iggy’s gonna need you so… ”

What was he talking about? Why was Ignis going to need him? What had happened? He could hear from Gladio’s voice, the way it shook slightly as he spoke, that things were bad. Iggy and Noctis weren’t there with him so… something terrible had happened. He needed to know, needed to understand. The pain is his head was coming back even stronger than before but it wasn’t the pain that forced the tears out of his closed eyes. His body might not have been working properly, but the tears wouldn’t stop. 

Gladio’s hand moved from his wrist to his forehead, gently pushing strands of hair out of his damp eyes and back from his face. The hand remained on the top of his head and, surprisingly, Prompto found it reassuring. Any sort of physical contact usually made him feel uneasy. Not with Ignis of course, but that was different. That had taken a long time for him to get comfortable with, a long time for him to be able to trust. But this was Gladio. And if Gladio was being so gentle…Prompto dreaded to think how bad his injuries must be.

“Get some sleep, Blondie. I’m not going anywhere. It’ll get better, kid, I promise,” Gladio’s voice was still soft and cracked slightly at the end of his sentence. In spite of the thoughts, the panic running through his head, with Gladio’s hand still softly stroking his hair, he fell into an exhaustion-fuelled sleep.

*********

For a while- he didn’t know how long- Prompto drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of conversation here and there. It was disconcerting to say the least. Sometimes, he wasn’t even sure if he was awake or asleep. He hadn’t tried to open his eyes again since that first day. He was getting used to the dark and, if he was honest with himself, he was scared of what he might find if he eventually managed to prise open his eyelids. He wasn’t entirely sure what was causing the overwhelming sense of fear that was flowing through his body but, no matter how hard he tried to relax, it wouldn’t go away. Even his dreams were filled with terror. He often woke up to find tears streaming down his face and a gentle hand stroking his hair. He could never remember exactly what happened in these nightmares but, nevertheless, he was always surprised to find that he wasn’t screaming when he awoke. In fact, when he thought about it, he realised that he hadn’t uttered a single sound since whatever had happened that day. He was beginning to forget what his own voice sounded like.

The next time Prompto woke up, he was acutely aware of the pitter patter of rain close to his ear. It was beautiful in a way that made him want to just lie there and surrender himself to the sweet-sounding, silvery tune that the raindrops made as they fell against the metal frame of window. It immediately reminded him of the melody of one of the pieces of music that Ignis always used to play for him, way back before they left Insomnia. Now, stuck here in this hospital bed, that felt like a distant memory. It had been a long time ago, he was sure of that- although he had no idea how long. He knew they had been on a journey- an important one- but he wasn’t sure where they had been going, or how long they had been travelling for. There was so much he couldn’t remember.

Now that his thoughts had cleared a little, he became more aware of the various aches and pains that seemed to permeate every bone, every muscle in his body. If he could just move a little, maybe he could alleviate some of it, make it more bearable. He groaned softly and attempted to shift himself into a more comfortable position. 

“Hush, Prom darling, I’m here. You’re safe, my love.” Iggy. He was here. He was OK. Prompto could feel Ignis take his hand and squeeze it. Unusually, he wasn’t wearing his gloves and his soft, warm skin coupled with his gentle touch felt so reassuring. Prompto hadn’t realised how much he had missed being close to him, having him by his side. More than anything, he wanted to squeeze back, to show Ignis how much he had missed him, that things were going to be fine. He tried sending signals to his own hand, but it wouldn’t do what he wanted it to, his fingers twitching pathetically in Ignis’ strong grip. Prompto could feel himself begin to panic again. If he couldn’t even move his hand, what did that mean?

“Hey, Blondie- you need to stay calm. Panicking’s not gonna help anything.” It was Gladio’s voice. So he was still here.

“Gladio…” Ignis spoke softly, his voice almost whispering the words.

“No, Iggy. He’s not a child and I refuse to treat him like one. He deserves to know what’s going on, what he’s up against. You can’t protect him forever!”

Prompto felt his mouth go dry and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. What was Ignis trying to protect him from? Just how bad were things? He knew that he’d been in the hospital for a while and things didn’t seem to be getting any better. He still couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, didn’t seem to have any control over his body. But he would get better. Gladio had said that, had promised him! He opened his mouth and tried to speak, tried to force out the words. 

“Iggy…”. This time, a sound did emerge from his parched, cracked lips. It didn’t sound at all like his voice. It was hoarse and slightly slurred, but the word was recognisable. “I…what…are you…?” Beads of sweat broke out across his brow with the effort of trying to put together a sentence. Why was this so difficult? He knew exactly what he wanted to say but…the words just wouldn’t come out in the the way he wanted. Prompto frowned, his forehead wrinkling with confusion and frustration, and opened his mouth to try again.

“Don’t try to speak, darling.” Ignis’ hand moved to his face and Prompto felt a cool, damp cloth being pressed to his forehead. A hand rested reassuringly upon the top of his head, fingers laced into his hair. “Gladio- please go and fetch a doctor. I don’t want to leave him.” Silence. Prompto thought he’d be used to it by now but this time the tension that filled the air was oppressive. He didn’t need to be able to see to know that Gladio and Ignis were both glaring at each other, a wordless argument passing between them. “Gladio. Please…” Ignis was almost begging now, an edge to his voice that Prompto rarely heard. Here was a man that really loved him- who had loved him through everything. Ignis was one of the strongest people he knew but here, now, his voice quivering as if he was holding back tears, he sounded broken. It made Prompto want to reach out and hold his lover, to reassure him and comfort him. But he couldn’t. He was useless. Truly useless. 

The sound of an angry grunt followed by a door slamming shut brought him back to his senses. Ignis must have won the argument. It didn’t surprise him: Ignis won most arguments, especially with Gladio, whose bark Prompto had quickly learnt was much worse than his bite. Usually, at least!

Now they were alone. Ignis let out a sigh and took a deep breath, as if he was about to say something. Prompto waited, listening intently, as he always did when his lover was by his side. “Prom. I’m…” The voice trailed off into nothingness. A tiny sniff followed. Was Ignis crying? Ignis never cried. At least, not as long as Prompto had known him. “I’m not sure what to do. I thought I’d lost you and now… I need you, Prom. Please come back to me. I can’t do this without you. I’m sorry to be so selfish but…”. There it was again. That edge. He could feel Ignis lean over him, his lips searching what felt like every inch of his face until they found Prompto’s own, brushing against them with the slightest of touches. It was enough to make Prompto shiver as he fought his own body to respond, pressing deeper into the kiss as if he were afraid to lose it forever. 

The intimacy was broken by the creak of the door opening and Ignis broke away quickly, leaving Prompto’s lips tingling with the memories of the moment. He could hear Gladio talking quietly to someone whose voice he didn’t recognise- the doctor he presumed. 

“Mr Argentum, I’m going to shine this light into your eyes. It’s nothing to worry about but it may feel a little uncomfortable,” the new voice spoke. Prompto felt hot breath against his cheek as the doctor leant over him, getting so close that the stench of disinfectant clinging to his clothing made him want to gag. He’d never been very good at having people get close to him, invading his personal space- he remembered the conversation he’d once had with Ignis about his struggle with physical intimacy- and the thought of this stranger prodding and poking him made him want to cry out and pull away. He knew that the doctor was trying to help him, was just doing his job but still…. In that moment, Prompto wanted to get as far away as possible. He just wanted things to go back to the way they had been a few moments ago- just him and Ignis. 

He tried to fix his thoughts on Ignis as the doctor roughly grabbed his face, just below his left eye. The strange hands felt rough and calloused and irritated his skin, making him want to itch and rub the feeling away. Another hand leant heavily across his left eyebrow and he felt his eyelids suddenly prised open, followed by a bright light which entered his vision and seemed to burn into his brain. He was surprised by just how much it hurt- not only his eye but his head, which started throbbing again with such intensity that he thought for a moment he might pass out. The process was repeated on his right eye and this time Prompto was prepared for the pain that came alongside the light. Before he knew it, the hands were leaving his face and he was left with red spots dancing across his eyes. 

“Everything is looking as we would expect. You’re doing well, Mr Argentum.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Gladio responded quietly, the relief in his voice clear for Prompto to hear. “You scared us for a while there, Blondie, you know that, right?”

“I’m afraid to say that he’s not out of the woods yet. He still has a long road ahead of him, and it’s impossible to say if he will ever fully recover. After an injury this severe, it can take months, sometimes years, of therapy for speech to return to normal. His lack of movement is also a concern. We can’t presume anything yet.”

The doctor’s words cut through Prompto like a knife as the severity of the situation that he was in struck him with full force. Where was Ignis? In that moment more than any other, he needed to see his lover’s face, to hold his hands, to be engulfed in his comforting embrace. Instead, despite knowing he was there- right beside the bed- he had never felt so lonely. Nobody could truly share his fear. He had no choice but to do this alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thanks to Phoenix_Down for being the first ever person to read my writing and for giving me confidence to continue.
> 
> Also Parasox - couldn't have done it without you girl! Seriously though...;-)
> 
> And all the lovely people on FFXV writers discord- you have made me brave!


	2. Gladio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio needs to be strong for his friends but he is struggling to keep it all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a bit of a tough week and this ended up getting a little darker than I was planning.
> 
> Just a warning that the last few paragraphs might be a bit triggering for lots of things.

Silence had fallen across the city by the time Gladio found him, tufts of blonde hair just visible against the grim background of devastation that surrounded him. He had run to him, calling his name, fearing the worst when this illicited no response. He was not prepared for this. He had sworn to protect Noctis but this…this was different. Deep down he knew that his loyalty was to Noct- it had to be- and he had done the right thing by making sure that he was safe above all else. He knew that. It was his duty, after all. But seeing Prompto like this- surely on the brink of death- made Gladio’s heart pump with a fear that he rarely felt. Through their travels together, Gladio had developed a soft spot for the youngest member of the group- how could he not? Prompto’s cheerful nature, his contagious smile and laughter, his ability to always make the best of any situation- Gladio had found it irritating at first but had soon grown to love it, despite not being able to stop himself from constantly teasing the blonde. 

And then there was Ignis. Prompto meant the world to him- that much was clear for anyone to see. Gladio didn’t believe in the idea of soulmates but- if ever there was a couple who could convince him that they existed- Ignis and Prompto were that pair. Gladio had watched their relationship develop slowly- as was the case with most things where Iggy was concerned. To begin with, he couldn’t deny that he had felt a little concerned. After all, they were so different and he honestly believed that Ignis would just end up getting hurt and that he- as always- would end up having to pick up the pieces. But now…now he couldn’t imagine a better pairing. There was no doubt about it in Gladio’s mind: they were perfect for each other. He had to make sure Prompto survived- he would never be able to look at Ignis if he failed. Ignis would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself…

When Gladio reached the place where Prompto lay, he had been afraid to touch him. He looked broken and Gladio was frightened that he would only make things worse. He knelt down beside him and gently touched his face, pushing blood-soaked clumps of hair away from his forehead, out of the painful-looking wounds that glistened in the moonlight. Prompto’s skin had been ice cold, his lips tinged with blue and- for a moment- Gladio had feared the worst. It was only as he looked closer that he was able to glimpse the slight rise and fall of his chest. The breaths were slow, ragged and uneven but he was still breathing. He was alive. 

“Hang in there, Prom,” Gladio had muttered, his face as close to Prompto’s ear as he could manage. He hoped he could hear him. He remembered how lonely Prompto often got and wished that he could have reached him sooner, could have let him know that he was not, and would never again be, alone. In a way, he was glad at the very least that he was the one here, that he was the one who had found Prompto, that he was the one having to make the decisions. Noct would have fallen apart to see his best friend like this and Iggy- well, it would have broken his heart to see the man he loved so close to death. Gladio couldn’t even bear to think about it.

He lifted Prompto’s head up slowly from the ground, wrapping one hand around the back of it to act like a pillow, while he checked for any serious injuries. He was covered in cuts and scrapes, and a deep laceration weaved its way across his right cheek, making Gladio think back to when he had received his own scars. He remembered how painful they had been, although he hadn’t admitted it even to himself at the time, and cursed the fact that he had been in such a hurry to find the blonde that he had left his supply of potions with Ignis. He hated the thought of Prompto being in pain.

He hadn’t wanted to move him but what other choice did he have? Judging by the damp, crimson stains that covered the ground near where Prompto lay, the blonde had already lost a lot of blood and Gladio didn’t know how much time he had. He removed his hand from where it still hugged the back of Prompto’s head, holding in a gasp of horror as he saw the deep-red sticky sheen that now clung to his skin. This was bad. He needed to get Prompto to a hospital, and quickly.

******** 

Later, when Gladio thought back on the events of that evening, everything was hazy and dreamlike. No, that wasn’t the right word. It had been more like a nightmare in which he barely remembered lifting the blonde into his arms and making his way through the city- the streets now ruined and desolate where they had earlier been full of laughter and beauty- towards where he had left Noct and Ignis. He had managed to get those two to safety at least. All his life, Gladio had trained to protect people so that he could look after the ones he cared about. But now his father was dead. Prompto was gravely injured and Ignis…well, he couldn’t even think about Ignis without feeling a surge of guilt so strong that it made him want to scream.

At the hospital, which had somehow remained intact and functional in spite of the outside chaos, everything seemed to happen so quickly. Almost immediately, Prompto was swept out of his arms by a stranger in a white coat, while another man- a doctor, Gladio presumed- ushered him away, through a set of swinging double doors and down a corridor. More than anything, Gladio wanted to stay with Prompto, to check that he was still alive at least. But the day’s events had been too much for him. He couldn’t even find the words to object and, before he knew it, he was sitting in an empty room, a cup of steaming hot coffee being thrust into his hands. Coffee. It reminded him of Ignis. He needed to see him, tell him that he’d found Prompto, that everything was going to be just fine. 

“My friend- Ignis Scientia. I need to see him,” Gladio grunted, looking up to see that the man in the white coat was standing by the door, a clipboard in his hand and a grave expression on his face.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible at the moment,” the man replied, taking a seat in the chair next to Gladio. “Mr Scientia is resting. It’s very important that he rests so that his injuries can heal.”

“His injuries?”

“His eyes. They have been badly damaged. We won’t be able to assess things properly until they have healed. Sleep will help with that.” The doctor spoke calmly but Gladio could see the nervous expression on his face that told him that things were not looking good for his friend.

“Then…Noctis. I should be with him. Take me to him.” His voice was shaking as he struggled to hold in his emotion. Under normal circumstances he would have been embarrassed but…these weren’t normal circumstances. He didn’t care what this man thought of him. He just wanted to see Noctis. To protect him, as was his duty.

“Please, Mr Amicitia. Come this way.” Gladio stood, placing down the still-full cup of coffee and stepping towards the door. He took a deep breath. He was the strong one. He was the shield. And now he had to be strong for his friends.

******** 

It was two days before he was permitted to see Ignis. Those two days were spent with Noctis. Protecting him, like he had been trained to do. Waiting for him to wake up. Noct was uninjured- or so the doctors had told him- apart from the fact that his body was exhausted. Nobody was sure how long he needed to sleep for, how long it would be until he awoke and could be told the news about Ignis and Prompto. The news about Luna. Gladio dreaded having to tell him. It was easier, in fact, that he was asleep. It gave Gladio time to process the facts himself, to deal with his own emotions- his own anger and pain. And then, when Noct finally woke up, he would be strong enough to tell him everything.

He couldn’t bring himself to visit Prompto. Not yet. He had spent hours standing outside the room he was in, staring through the window at the blonde, hooked up to all sorts of monitors and looking barely alive but, every time he had gone to push open the door, his hands had started to shake and his breath had caught in his chest. He should have been there. Should have got there earlier. Maybe then Prompto wouldn’t be in this situation. Sure, he was alive. He was breathing. But he hadn’t opened his eyes, hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t been able to move a muscle. And Gladio felt that, somehow, it was his fault. Despite the doctors telling him that, with a head injury this severe a long recovery period was inevitable, regardless of how quickly he had gotten him to a hospital, Gladio couldn’t help but blame himself. 

He couldn’t put off seeing Ignis though. Not for long at least. Seeing him for the first time, sitting there in the hospital bed, blood-stained bandages wrapped around his head and across his eyes, had been a shock that Gladio had not been prepared for. He had taken a deep breath before crossing the room to sit beside him, clearing his throat to announce his presence, just like the doctor had suggested. 

“Hi Iggy.” Good. His voice sounded strong, no hint of the slight tremor that he had heard when he spoke to the doctor on that first day. That’s all he needed to do, just act like nothing was wrong. “How are you doing?”

Ignis turned his face to look at him and Gladio could feel his heart breaking. How was he going to keep things together? He knew he needed to but he was struggling already and he hadn’t even started talking yet, started the conversation that he knew they were going to have. Prompto. What was he going to tell Ignis about Prompto?

“Gladio.” Ignis spoke, sounding no different from his usual self and, for a moment, Gladio considered closing his eyes and imagining himself back at the Leville, as they had all been just a few days ago. Perhaps, if he tried hard enough, he could pretend nothing had changed. 

But things had changed. He couldn’t put it off any longer- he needed to deal with it. They needed to move forward, not backwards and Gladio knew that he was going to have to be the one to force that. Noct wouldn’t do it, and Iggy and Prompto…well, they needed his strength more than ever.

“Prompto…how is he? He is alive?” There came the question that Gladio knew he was going to have to answer but, in contrast to what he had expected, there was a hopefulness to it that made Gladio’s heart leap. He should have known that he could count on Ignis to remain positive in spite of everything.

“Yes, Iggy. He’s alive. The doctors have been looking after him. They say he’s getting stronger every day.” Gladio tried to imitate the positivity that he had heard in Ignis’ voice, but failed spectacularly. He cursed the way he was unable to control the cracking of his voice, the trembling as he held back the tears that threatened to force their way out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He couldn’t be honest about Prompto’s current condition. Not to Ignis, not even to himself. But he had thought that he could pretend, could trick himself into believing the words that he spoke. Never before had he felt so useless. He tore his eyes away from Ignis, finding it too difficult to look at him, instead choosing to stare with unseeing eyes at the gleaming white tiles that covered the ground. They wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t be able to pick apart his lies. Wouldn’t know how much of a failure he felt.

“No.” The word that came out of Ignis’ mouth sounded so final. He knew that Gladio had been lying- of course he knew. This was Ignis. He knew everything. “I need to know the truth, Gladio. I am prepared for it. You must tell me- how bad is it? Will he live?” Gladio dared raise his eyes from the tiles and immediately regretted it. The expression on his friend’s face said it all: he was in pain but he had resigned himself to knowing the facts, the full severity of the situation. He was ready to hear it. More ready than Gladio was to say it. He didn’t want to see Ignis’ face when he told him that the doctors had said Prompto might never wake up and that, even if he did, he might never speak again, might never regain movement in his arms and legs. He didn’t want to tell Ignis that, didn’t even know if he’d be able to get the words out without crumbling himself. 

“I…” he paused, taking a moment to clear his throat and compose himself, forcing his emotions to the back of his mind. “I don’t know, Iggy. I think so but he’s in a pretty bad way. You should be with him. He’d want you to be there.” There. He’d said it. His eyes now focused on Ignis’ face, watching him, searching carefully for any trace of the emotion he knew his friend must be feeling. Without being able to look his friend in the eye, he found it difficult- impossible even- to tell what was going through his mind. Gladio was sure that Ignis' mind must have been full of thoughts and emotions, but his face looked as calm and placid as it always did.

“Iggy. What are you thinking? Can I do anything? I want to help- please let me.”

“No, Gladio. There is nothing more you can do. I just need to be alone. You understand that, don’t you?” For the first time, Gladio heard a slight tremble reach Ignis’ voice as he struggled to get his words out. Ignis turned his face away and Gladio could have sworn he saw a solitary tear escape from underneath the bandages and slide down his cheek. 

“Iggy…” Gladio started to reach out a hand to squeeze his friend’s shoulder, to comfort him as best he could. But even before his hand had left the bed, where it was gripping the bedclothes so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, Ignis pulled away, turning his face towards him once more.

“You rescued him, Gladio- saved him when I could not. I should have been there, should have protected him.” There was no doubt now of the pain that Ignis was feeling- his anguish was painted clearly on his face for all to see. “I failed him and now I could lose him forever…” This time, Gladio knew that Ignis was crying, his shoulders shaking and his chest heaving as quiet sobs forced their way out from his body.

“Iggy, it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” Gladio reached out, pulling Ignis towards him in a firm and comforting embrace. And this time, Ignis let himself fall into his friend’s arms, no longer holding back the tears, no longer resisting the pain that he had been keeping hidden from the world. He needed to cry, and Gladio was going to let him. It was the least he could do.

******** 

It was later that evening that Gladio finally allowed himself to fall apart. After leaving Ignis- who had made him promise to go and sit by Prompto’s bed, fearful that his lover would wake up frightened and alone- he had left the hospital walls for the first time in two days. Two days- was that all it had been? It had seemed a lifetime ago that he had carried Prompto’s limp body through the streets, desperately hoping that he would reach help in time. As he stepped outside, he was immediately struck by how dark it was. It was daytime- that much was obvious- but the city looked completely different without the shimmering sunlight reflecting off the windows of the buildings. It looked sad…

Gladio looked up to see a thick, grey blanket of clouds covering the sky, hiding even the tiniest glimmer of sunlight. It seemed appropriate, somehow, that the sun would disappear on the same day that- for the first time in his life- he felt like giving up. He knew he needed to get as far away from the hospital as possible. He needed to be alone. 

And so he walked, head down and fists clenched tightly by his sides, until he found himself in a particularly overcast and deserted corner of the city- in a street he didn’t think he had visited before. Seeing Ignis that morning had been the breaking point for Gladio. He leant against the nearest building, his legs shaking as he tried to control the anger and frustration that he knew he couldn’t hold back for much longer. He clenched his fists even tighter, his fingernails digging into his palms with such force that he was sure they must have drawn blood. The pain seemed to momentarily soothe him and, for a few seconds, his anger dissipated. But it wasn’t enough. He needed to scream, needed to let out every last trace of emotion so that, when he returned to the hospital, he could provide his friends with the strength and protection that they needed. 

Straightening up slowly, he felt rage pulse through his entire body. He wasn’t sure what he was so angry at- the gods, Noct, himself? But he knew he was about to lose control in a way that made him grateful for the deserted streets. Grateful that nobody was around to see him like this. A guttural scream of pain erupted from the depths of his throat as he jammed his fist into the side of the building he had been leaning against, the satisfying crack of his knuckles as they smashed against the brick sounding deafening against the silence that hung over the city. It hurt but he needed more. He needed the pain to take over his body and make him forget everything, even if it only lasted a few minutes. He hated himself when he got like this, when he let his anger control him, but there was no other way to rid himself of it. He needed to stop feeling, at least until all this was over. It was the only way he could cope. With these thoughts consuming him, he lashed out again and again, memories of his father and Insomnia only serving to fuel his anger further, until- eventually- the fiery ache that spread across his hand was replaced with the numbness that he had been craving.

Staring down at his fist, red raw knuckles already beginning to swell, he was shocked by the damage he had caused to himself. The crimson stains that were now smeared across the brick wall added to his horror. He knew that when he got like this, he didn’t feel the pain. Not at first, at least. But he never ceased to be amazed by how far he needed to go to get the release he needed. He hated it, but this time it had been necessary. Now he could do his job, without his emotions getting in the way. 

Gladio propped himself up against the building, breathing deeply until he was sure he had regained full control of his senses, before turning around and making the long trek back up towards the hospital. He was ready to fulfil his promise to Ignis. He was ready to see Prompto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kind words and encouragement. It made me brave enough to keep going with this.
> 
> Thanks especially to the lovely people at FFXV writers discord- you are all awesome.


	3. Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can Ignis help Prompto recover when he is struggling so much with his own worries and fears?

Ignis didn’t need to wait for the bandages to be removed to know the truth about his eyes. He was blind. He would never see again. That much he knew without even being told. The last thing he remembered before Gladio had arrived was the intense feeling of heat and light burning behind his eyes, the excruciating pain as the heat seared into the back of his brain, his vision seeming to dissolve into nothingness, leaving only a shadowy glow in its wake. But that pain, overwhelming as it had been, hadn’t lasted long, the real horror coming after it had dissipated, when he was left in the most complete blackness he had ever known. He had thought he had known what darkness was but now realised that, even in the blackest of nights, there is some light- a glow or a slight twinkle emanating from behind the clouds- created by the stars. This was true darkness. To begin with, he was unable to even process the idea of perpetually living in what was, essentially, a never-ending, starless night. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine what it would be like, how he would live. But, as the days went by, he allowed himself to pass though the full spectrum of emotion: anger, fear, sadness and- now- acceptance. 

If he was honest with himself, it was Prompto that occupied his thoughts more than his eyes. And the thought of never seeing his lover’s face again was the thing that hurt him the most, even after he had come to terms with the rest of his situation. The fact that he would never again be able to observe all of Prompto’s cute little quirks- the ones that had endeared him to Ignis from the moment they had first met- filled his heart with such an immense feeling of sadness that he wondered if it would burst open. He would miss seeing the slight blush that he so loved rise on his lover’s cheeks when he kissed him, the flush of colour lighting up his whole face, making it appear to glow. He would miss waking up to the sparkle of those beautiful violet eyes first thing in the morning, the way that, half open with the remnants of sleep, they looked at him with such love that he felt like the most important person in the world. Ignis found himself thinking of the way that Prompto nibbled his lower lip and stared down at the floor whenever he was nervous- a habit that he had always found incredibly attractive. He smiled to himself as he remembered the way that he used to fall asleep thinking about it when he was younger, before they had admitted their feelings for each other, images of Prompto with that adorable expression on his face- the one that made Ignis want to simultaneously hug him and kiss him- cemented into his dreams. But now he would never see it again…

It hurt, thinking about all the things he would miss, but what hurt more was the thought of not being with his lover when he needed him the most. He was desperate to prove to the doctors that he was well enough to leave the hospital bed, well enough to sit by Prompto as his lover recovered. The day that Gladio had first come to visit him- nearly a week ago now- had been difficult. Ignis wasn’t used to his emotions being on display in front of anyone, but particularly not Gladio. They had been friends for many years- that much was true- but they didn’t have that sort of relationship. They talked but there was always so much left unsaid between them. That’s just the way their friendship was. But this time, despite trying so hard to maintain the composure that he knew was expected of him, he had broken down. When Gladio had told him about Prompto’s injuries, that his lover might not even survive, his strong exterior had cracked and tears had flooded out of him like a never-ending waterfall. To his credit, Gladio had not batted an eyelid and had held Ignis in a comforting embrace, stroking his back until loud sobs had calmed into the occasional sniff. It was the closest they had ever been. Ignis had felt so exposed, embarrassed even, by the way he had reacted. Only Prompto really got to see that side of him, the softness that he hid from the others. He was a private person and always had been- and he wanted to keep it that way. So until Prompto woke up, until he could talk to his lover, he would have to stay strong.

The bandages were coming off today and then, later, he would be taken to Prompto’s bedside. He promised himself that he would never leave his side again; he would be there when he woke up. And he would wake up. He had to wake up. He knew that Gladio was trying to help when he kept repeating, as if Ignis hadn’t listened, hadn’t taken it in the first time, that Prompto’s injuries were severe- that he might never again be the person that Ignis had known. The person that Ignis had loved. Still loved, because he knew that, no matter what, he would never be able to stop loving this beautiful person who had stolen his heart and changed his life. He thought back to these conversations, Gladio perched precariously on the side of the hospital bed, one hand gently squeezing Ignis’ shoulder as he spoke softly, almost as if he was afraid that Ignis might break down again and start crying. But, since that first day, he had managed to stay composed, to remain positive about the chances of Prompto making a full recovery. He couldn’t imagine life without Prompto and, although it scared him to admit it to himself, wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep going without him. He needed him. He loved him and he needed him. So Prompto had to survive, he had to recover. Ignis refused to admit to himself that there was any other possibility.

So as the doctor unwound the bandages, heavy and itchy as they were, from around his face, Ignis thought not of his own blindness but of Prompto. And as the doctor shone a light into his one remaining eye (his left eye was sealed shut, he had been told from the beginning), stating gravely that his pupil was showing no reaction to the light, he felt no fear for himself, for his future. He thought only of Prompto. As long as Prompto was by his side, he knew that he would be able to cope with anything life threw his way. All he needed was for his lover to survive.

******** 

It was another week before Prompto was fully awake- awake enough to be properly aware of his surroundings, at least. And for the duration of that week, Ignis spent as much time as he could sitting by his lover’s bed, holding his hand, stroking his hair- anything he could think of to comfort him. In a strange way, he felt grateful that he couldn’t see. Gladio and the doctors had all told him the extent of Prompto’s injuries but not seeing them for himself made it slightly less real and easier to cope with. He could almost imagine that the blonde was just sleeping peacefully and that he would wake up any moment with his usual cheerful ‘good morning’ greeting followed by a gentle kiss- the sort of kiss that would invariably bring a smile to Ignis’ face. If he concentrated hard enough, he could force himself to believe it for a few moments at a time. But the beeping of the monitors that Prompto was hooked up to always cut abrasively through the silence of the hospital room, dragging him unwillingly back to reality. He wasn’t just sleeping. He knew that- and he knew that no amount of dreaming would change it.

On his first visit, Gladio had explained very clearly that Ignis needed to be careful when approaching Prompto. He needed to avoid catching or pulling the wires attached to the machines around the bed- the machines that were keeping his lover alive, that were helping him to get better. Gladio had gently taken his hands in his own and let them drift over Prompto’s body, guiding him to find the position of the wires and the bandages, showing him the place where the cannula pinched the back of his hand. Showing him how to touch Prompto in a way that wouldn’t hurt him further. The first thing that Ignis wanted to do was to reach out and run his hands over every inch of Prompto’s face, to help himself believe that his lover was really here. To feel the warmth of his skin that would prove that he was still alive. Gladio had warned him that he would have to be very gentle, that Prompto’s wounds were still healing and probably still very painful but, without being able to see, Ignis found himself unable to truly create a picture in his head. It was frustrating, not knowing fully what was going on. He noticed a heavy bandage- rough like the one that had hidden his own eyes only that morning, covering the whole of Prompto’s right cheek and wondered exactly what had happened. But he didn’t enquire about it further. It wasn’t important. All that mattered was that Prompto woke up. They could deal with everything else after that. Together, they could handle anything.

Occasionally, Prompto would let out a soft murmur or a whimper of pain, and Ignis would immediately grasp his hand tightly, lowering his head carefully as close to his lover’s ear as possible so that he could whisper into it. He always held out hope that Prompto would respond to his voice, that he would wake up and squeeze his own hand in answer. But for a whole week it didn’t happen. He didn’t want to, but Ignis knew that he was starting to lose hope of ever hearing the blonde’s voice again, of ever being able to hug him, to kiss him properly. He was losing hope that Prompto would wake up…

Although he was grateful for Gladio's support, he was glad when he able to be alone with Prompto. He didn’t feel comfortable with intimacy when Gladio was in the room, settling instead for sitting in the chair that had been pulled as close as possible to the side of the hospital bed, his hands resting softly on his lover’s arm. With Gladio gone, however, he was able to lie his head down on Prompto’s chest, the comforting, rhythmic heartbeat that echoed in his ear soothing his anxiety and fear. The rise and fall of Prompto’s chest, his breaths more even and controlled than they had been at first, was comforting to Ignis and the gentle drumming of his lover’s heart, along with the warmth that radiated out from his skin, lulled Ignis into a deep and dream-free sleep.

******** 

Ignis awoke from his slumber with a start, confused at first by the darkness that seemed to engulf his surroundings. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep for but, judging by the bewildering haziness that he was feeling and the tenseness that filled his muscles, it must have been a while. It took a few moments before her remembered where he was. The hospital. Prompto.

His lover’s chest, where his own head still lay, was warm as it had been when he had fallen asleep, but his skin was clammy now and his breathing had noticeably altered. It was more erratic, his chest moving up and down at irregular intervals, shallow, painful-sounding breaths emerging from his lips. A feeling of panic filled Ignis’ own chest as he straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck which was stiff and painful from his disagreeable resting position. He reached out to stroke Prompto’s forehead, his consternation intensifying yet further as he became aware of the damp sheen of sweat that coated his lover’s brow. Soft moans and sobs filled Ignis’ ears as Prompto’s body twitched awkwardly beneath his hands. He had the urge to sweep his lover into his arms and squeeze him tightly but, without being able to see, wasn’t sure he’d be able to do so without disturbing the remaining wires. Frustration overwhelmed him and he felt a strong desire to cry out. What was wrong? How could he help? He turned to call for a doctor when he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder, a quiet voice cutting through the air. 

“Nightmares,” Gladio murmured gently. “Poor kid’s had some pretty bad ones since he got here. Nothing you can do though- just gotta wait for him to snap out of it.”

“Oh…” Ignis didn’t know what else to say. Of course it was just a nightmare. Ignis knew that he suffered badly from them- not just now but for many years. He had always made sure that Prompto knew he could talk about them, that Ignis would always be there to listen. But he had never wanted to, always preferring to just lie in Ignis’ arms as they tightly wrapped around him, tucking his head under Ignis’ chin and letting violent but silent sobs rack though his body until he was overcome by exhaustion and could drift back to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Ignis would be there to protect him, to keep him safe from harm. Ignis wished above all else that he could lie next to Prompto now and hold him tight so that he would know that no harm could come to him. Not here. Not ever.

“Iggy…” Gladio was interrupted by the rustle of bedsheets as Prompto began to emerge from his nightmare, shifting in the bed slightly as he awoke, the trembling of his voice more apparent as his whimpers became louder.

Ignis reached out to take his lover’s hand, still sweaty and clammy with fear, interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently- very much aware of the fact that Prompto’s hand was barely twitching in response to his own firm grip. He ran his own fingers over the back of Prompto’s knuckles, hoping that the delicate yet measured movements would give Prompto something to focus on- allowing his breathing, which was gaining speed and becoming increasingly more terror-stricken, to settle back into it’s normal rhythm. 

“Hey, Blondie- you need to stay calm. Panicking’s not gonna help anything.” Gladio’s voice was louder this time and Ignis couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the gruffness that punctuated every word of his sentence. Prompto needed calm, gentle whispers to soothe his anxiety. He didn’t need this. Not now.

“Gladio…” Ignis spoke so softly that the word was almost inaudible. He wanted his lover to feel peaceful when he woke up, to feel that he was safe- not trapped in one of his nightmares. He needed Gladio to leave, but he didn’t know how to say it without creating a tension in the room that he knew Prompto, even in his confused and barely conscious state, would be able to sense. He turned to where he thought Gladio must be standing and looked up at him, hoping his face was showing the emotion, the desperation, he was feeling. He hoped that his eyes- his eye- was speaking the unspoken words: go, please leave us alone. 

“Iggy…I…” It was the first time he had heard his lover’s voice for days and it made him want to weep with joy. The words were slurred and cracked, and Ignis had to lower his head and listen carefully to make out what he was trying to say. But he heard them. They were there. And they sounded like the most beautiful melody that he had ever heard. Ignis felt his lips curl up at the edges, a small smile painting itself onto his face for what felt like the first time in days. Prompto was awake. And for now, that was enough to make Ignis’ heart leap with warmth and relief. He squeezed his lover’s hand tighter, and this time he was never letting go.

******** 

If Ignis thought that with Prompto awake things would be better, that they would return to the way they had been before all this had happened, he was wrong. The next few days were difficult. Prompto had woken up but…things weren’t that simple. Recovery was slow. He had known that it would be, but he hadn’t expected to see this little progress. Prompto was still unable to open his eyes- though the doctor didn’t seem to be able to explain why, muttering only about ‘the brain needing time to heal’ whenever he enquired about his lover’s condition. Ignis wasn’t sure if this was a physiological thing at all or if, in fact, the pain in his lover’s head was just so overwhelming that he was choosing to keep his eyes closed to avoid the light. On the positive, it made things easier as it meant that Ignis hadn’t yet needed to break the news of his own blindness. He wasn’t sure how Prompto would react to that and he dreaded the moment he had to explain what had happened. He wasn’t sure he could even explain it to himself, let alone to the one he loved. But, for now, all that could wait. All he needed to think about was helping Prompto recover so that they could move on with their lives.

Gladio, for his part, seemed to understand that the two of them needed time alone, instead opting to spend time with Noct, who had also woken up and seemed to be recovering well. Ignis knew that he, too, should be by Noct’s side, but he couldn’t leave Prompto. Not after everything. Not when he was like this. 

“Prom, my darling, you must at least try to drink something.” Ignis picked up the glass of water that the doctor had placed next to the bed that morning, gently sweeping one arm around the back of Promto’s head to lift it from the pillow and towards the glass that he now held in his other hand. Being without his sight complicated things and made it harder for him to care for Prompto in the way he wanted, but he seemed to finally be getting the hang of it, managing to navigate Prompto’s head successfully in the direction of the glass. Even without his vision, he couldn’t ignore the extensive padding created by the bandages that covered the back of his lover’s head. He knew that Prompto would never say anything if he was in pain but the laboured breathing and shaking hands told Ignis everything that he needed to know- what he was doing was hurting. “I’m sorry it hurts, my love, but the doctor said that it is important that you stay hydrated. It will help your wounds to heal more quickly.” He felt tears welling up in his own eyes and prayed to the gods that he would be able to hold them in, that he wouldn’t break. Prompto needed him. He had to be strong.

Ignis heard a soft gulp as Prompto swallowed a sip of the water.

“More?” 

He felt Prompto nod slightly and was glad that his hand still rested on the back of his head so that he was able to register the unspoken response. Ignis gradually tipped the glass, allowing Prompto to take more and more sips of the water, until he felt his lover’s head pull away. He lowered it gently back down towards the pillow and reluctantly pulled his hand away, placing the empty glass down on the table by the side of the bed. 

Beside him, he heard Prompto sigh gently.

“Iggy…” Prompto’s speech had improved, that much was obvious to everyone. When he spoke, the words were less slurred and more recognisable, and his voice trembled far less. Hearing his lover’s voice was a comfort but hearing him struggling to string together a sentence, to say the things he wanted to say, was discouraging to say the least. And Prompto’s own frustration was hurting Ignis in ways that he was finding difficult to explain.

“Yes, my darling?” Ignis laid a hand on the top of Prompto’s head, running his cool hands over his brow as he stroked his hair back from his face. He could feel his lover’s forehead wrinkle in distress as he tried to think of what he wanted to say, the beads of sweat that were beginning to form underneath Ignis’ palm a clear indication of the immense effort it was taking the blonde to perform even a task as simple as talking. It worried Ignis, but he knew that the only thing he could do was be to be there to support his lover when he needed him.

“Head…hurts. Eyes…want to…see you.” Prompto’s whole body was shaking and, although Ignis was unable to see, he was pretty sure that his lover was crying. He moved his hand down from Prompto’s head, where it had been gently stroking his hair, running his fingers gently over his eyelids, which flickered as they sensed his touch. They were damp with tears which Ignis could feel were spilling like a waterfall down his lover’s face. The bandage on Prompto’s right cheek hadn’t yet been removed and Ignis could feel that the material was soaked as it absorbed the moisture that cascaded over it. He slid out of the chair and onto the bed beside him, placing his own head gently on the pillow- so close that he could feel Prompto’s breath tickle his cheek- and carefully intertwining their legs together. He knew that the doctors would not approve but he didn’t care. Now that the wires and monitors were no longer in the way, there was nothing that could stop him from being close to the man he loved. 

His hand ran further down Prompto’s face, trying his utmost to avoid any areas where he knew his wounds had not yet fully healed, stopping when he reached his chin. He could feel the muscles here trembling with pain and emotion. He ran his fingers over Prompto’s lips, still dry and cracked from days without water, feeling a gentle kiss being pressed to his finger tips as they lingered there. Ignis pressed his forehead softly against his lover’s as he dotted a kiss over each individual tear, as if love alone could take away the pain that Prompto was feeling.

Ignis pulled away silently, his hand now searching desperately for Prompto’s, before locking their fingers together like the pieces of a puzzle. He heard a soft whimper.

“Iggy…don’t leave. Please…love…”

“Shh darling. I’m not leaving. I love you. We’re going to be OK, I promise you. You’re going to be OK.” He hoped that his words sounded convincing, that they would be enough to calm Prompto’s anxiety.

“Need to…see you.”

“So open your eyes, my love. I’m here. Nothing can hurt you now.” Ignis whispered the words softly into his lover’s ear, placing his free hand onto his chest so that he could, once again, feel the reassuring cadence of Prompto’s heart beating with a rhythm that echoed his own. Ignis was so lost in the steady drum-like pounding of his lover’s heart that he barely heard the startled gasp that escaped his lips.

“Iggy…?” There was a tremor in Prompto’s voice that showed he was close to tears and, behind his closed eyes, Ignis could picture the distress on his lover’s face as he took in Ignis’ injuries for the first time.

He let out a sigh as he removed his hand from Prompto’s chest, running his hands through his hair as he considered what to say. He had wanted so much for Prompto to open his eyes that he had almost forgotten that he had not told him about his own injuries. 

“I will explain but…not now. Now you just need to get better. And I promise, my darling, I’ll be here every step of the way. I love you, and that will never change.”

He drew Prompto closer to him, wrapping his arms around his quivering body as he brushed a tender kiss against his soft lips. Yes, they were going to be OK.


	4. Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Prompto begins to recover, he struggles with his emotions as he realises that things will never be the same again

_When he opens his eyes, he doesn’t know where he is. He can’t see anything but darkness and shadows. A cacophony of sounds fill the air. Screaming. Crying. Laughing. The person laughing is a man, he can tell that, and the laugh is unpleasant, a contorted bark full of malice that stands out against the background of noise. Who is that? He feels like he should know but he can’t clearly see the man’s face. It’s too dark. There are too many feelings. Pain. Sadness. Fear. He feels so very afraid but he doesn’t know why. A scream cuts through the laughter. Is it him screaming? Or someone else? He gets to his feet. There is shouting. The man. But who is he? He is important, he knows that, but he can’t recall who he is. He can’t remember why he is here. He’s running now, away from the laughter. Away from the shouting. The noise closes in on him as he trips and stumbles. He can feel breath on the back of his neck. He tries to stand. He knows he needs to run. He needs to keep running. But he is paralysed in fear._

_“You can’t escape, Prompto. Nobody ever escapes…”_

********

Prompto awoke with a start, a loud gasp emerging from his lips as he desperately took in large gulps of air in an attempt to satiate the burning sensation that filled his lungs. He was immediately aware of the fact that his body was quivering with fear, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest that he was sure that Ignis- who had not left his side for days, choosing instead to doze uncomfortably on a chair by the side of his bed- would wake up at the sound of it. It took him a few moments to realise that he was panicking at the memory of a nightmare- the pain in his chest getting worse instead of better as he tried without success to regulate his breathing. A feeling of nausea swept through him and his stomach muscles began to clench tighter and tighter as if they were trying to push all the fear out of him. He was going to be sick, he was sure of it.

He forced his eyes open as turned his head slightly to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of where Ignis was sleeping, a tiny whimper of pain escaping him as he did so. The light was still too bright and seemed to burn through his eyes and into the back of his brain causing the stabbing sensation that now, for the most part, usually lay dormant to intensify, reaching almost unbearable levels. Prompto felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he fought to keep himself from impulsively jamming his eyelids tightly closed, grappling with the wall of pain that all too often these days seemed unsurmountable. His throat was tight and dry with anxiety but he knew that he needed to call out for help.

“Iggy.” The word that emerged from his lips was an almost inaudible croak. There was no way that Ignis would have heard it, even if he had been awake.

“Iggy…help…please…” Prompto tried again, the words louder this time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his lover shift his position ever so slightly in the chair, his eyes still closed in what looked like a peaceful, dreamless slumber. He wanted to reach his hand out from beneath the sheet that was covering him, grabbing Ignis’ arm, which he could see lay across his lap, only inches away. He wanted to jump out of the bed and curl up in a ball on Ignis’ knee, pulling his lover’s arms around him like a blanket of armour. But he couldn’t do any of those things. His muscles still weren’t co-operating, wouldn’t connect with his brain. He could move his fingers slightly, could wiggle his toes, but that was no good to him now. That wouldn’t help him to get Ignis’ attention.

The frustration caused the thoughts of unease to accelerate inside his head. He wanted more than anything for them to slow down so that he could breathe, so that he could take in the oxygen his body needed, but they wouldn’t. The room was beginning to spin and it suddenly felt like a deluge of ice-cold water was surrounding every limb of his body, creeping higher and higher until it passed his mouth and nose. He felt like he was suffocating. He needed Ignis to wake up. He needed somebody- anybody- to help him.

“Please…” Prompto cried out with every inch of strength he had left. Tears were streaming down his face now as he gripped the bedsheets tightly, wrapping his fingers around them as he tried to focus on the cold, rough texture of the material against the palms of his hands. Something, anything to keep him rooted in reality.

“Prom. Prompto. My darling, can you hear me?” Suddenly, miraculously, Ignis was there. He had heard Prompto’s cries and was now wrapping his arms around him, squeezing gently as he ran his hands in slow circles across his lover’s back. 

“Iggy…can’t breathe…”

Prompto’s eyes were wide open in panic now, all thoughts of closing them wiped from his mind. He knew that Ignis was talking to him but he barely heard the words that he was speaking. He had pulled away from their embrace and was grasping him by the shoulders, concern etched across his face as he spoke to his lover. Prompto could see his lips moving but all he could hear was the thumping of his heart and a slight ringing in his ears that blocked out every other sound as if he was underwater and drowning. Keeping one hand firmly on his shoulder, Ignis reached out and gently took Prompto’s hand in his own, his skin feeling cool and soft in contrast to Prompto’s clammy and sweaty palms. Placing it over his own chest, he pressed it to his heart, which Prompto could feel beating slowly and calmly and rhythmically, the beat and tempo feeling so familiar beneath his hand. He felt his own breathing and heart rate gradually slow down to match his lover’s, the sounds of the room now penetrating the silent panic that had almost defeated him.

“It’s just a nightmare, my love. I’m here now. Deep breaths, darling. Nothing is going to hurt you, I promise.” Ignis’ soothing voice penetrated Prompto’s thoughts as he felt the panic begin to die down, the memories of the nightmare receding into the back of his thoughts. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. This was reality- him and Iggy. The hospital. Gladio. Noct. These were the things he needed to focus on.

“Iggy…felt so real…gods…I’m sorry…” It was still a struggle to speak but the words were coming more easily now at least. He buried his head into Ignis’ chest, wiping away the remaining tears on his shirt before pulling back to look at the man he loved. The first thing that struck Prompto was how tired he looked, and he knew that it was at least partly his fault. Since he had woken up, Ignis had spent every waking moment looking after him and, Prompto reasoned, was probably by his side most of the time he was sleeping too, since he had never awoken to find himself alone. Prompto was grateful for his lover’s support- he didn’t think he would be able to do this without him, actually. But at the same time, he felt guilty- embarrassed even- that he needed so much help now. He could barely do anything for himself and, although the doctors kept reassuring him that he was making good progress, that things would get easier, he was frustrated. He had spent his entire life feeling like an outsider, like he needed to earn his place next to Noct, like he just wasn't good enough, and only recently had he begun to feel like maybe- just maybe- he deserved his place in the group after all. That perhaps he _was_ good enough to be Noct’s best friend. Thanks to Gladio’s training, he had gotten pretty good with a gun, after all, and the photos that he took made people smile so… Anyway, it didn’t matter now. He couldn’t do either of those things anymore, not now, maybe not ever. He was worse than useless.

And Iggy…well, Iggy was injured and there was nothing Prompto could do to help him. Seeing Ignis’ face for the first time, realising that he was blind, that he would never see again, was without a doubt the worst moment of Prompto’s life. He adjusted the position of his head, where it still lay cradled in his lover’s chest, so that, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the scars- a painful and constant reminder that everything had changed. His eyes scanned his lover’s face, lingering over the edges of the scar that now covered his left eye, his hands itching to reach up and touch it, to magically take the pain away with a kiss.

“Prompto,” Ignis started, his voice sounding serious but, at the same time, somehow hesitant.

He didn’t continue his sentence, his face instead turned towards Prompto as if awaiting a response.

“Yeah? Iggy?”

“I know I have said this before, on many occasions, but it may help to talk about your nightmares. I am always here to listen- that will never change. They may never go away but perhaps we can make them less frightening for you.” Ignis had moved to sit on the side of the bed and had pilled up the pillows so that Prompto was propped into a seated position. It hurt to be sitting like this, his muscles so weak that even holding his head up was an effort, but it made him feel more alive than lying down in the bed all the time.

“Can’t…” he murmured. “Hurts too much.” He wished more than anything that he could explain his nightmares to Ignis but he barely understood himself what he found so terrifying. The only thing he knew was that they seemed so real, and the man who inevitably came into his mind every time he slept seemed too familiar to just a stranger in a dream. He knew there was more to it, and he knew it was something bad. But it was too confusing to think about. It caused him too much pain.

“I don’t want to push you, my love, but I worry about you. These nightmares- they are too frequent now and they cause you so much distress. When I woke up this evening, you were drenched in sweat and could barely breathe! I thought you were going to pass out, Prom, and it frightened me. What if I hadn’t have been here? Would you have been able to calm yourself down?”

Prompto knew that Ignis was just speaking truthfully, and that he was doing so purely out of love and concern, but his words caused the frustration that Prompto had already been feeling to intensify inside him, so much so that he feared the anger would burst out of him uncontrollably and that he would end up hurting the one he loved with his words. It wasn’t Ignis that he was angry with, of course. It was himself. He hated how much of a burden he was. He didn’t deserve Ignis’ concern. He deserved to be alone, where he could be useless and pathetic without hurting anyone else.

“Leave me alone, Iggy.” Prompto was surprised at the venom in his own voice as he spat out the words. He turned his face away so that he didn’t have to look at Ignis, didn’t have to see the hurt that he had caused.

“My love, I’m just trying to help,” Ignis comforted, placing his hands on Prompto’s shoulders reassuringly.

“Please…Iggy…need to be alone.” He shrugged Ignis off with all the strength he could muster, turning his head to the side and pressing his face into the pillow. He wasn’t sure whether what he was feeling was the most intense anger he had ever experienced or whether he was on the verge of breaking down and crying. He could feel his body trembling and his chin beginning to shake, but the this time the tears wouldn’t come. Perhaps it was just that he had no tears left to cry.

“As you wish,” Ignis stood, straightening the bedsheets and feeling around for his cane, which leant against the side of the chair. “I shall be with Noct and Gladio if you want me.”

Ignis bent down over the bed, searching for Prompto’s face, which was still buried in the pillow. With a sigh, he laid a soft kiss on the top of the blonde’s head, before making his way gingerly towards the door.

“I know it must be hard, Prompto, but you have to keep trying.” Ignis paused, as if he was going to say something else, and Prompto fought the temptation to lift his head and look over at his lover, instead squeezing his eyes tightly shut and pressing his face harder into the pillow. ‘I love you, my darling. Please never forget that.”

Prompto heard the click of the door as it closed behind him. As he lay there in the silence, the rage that had been building inside him- such an unfamiliar feeling- began to dissipate, leaving only sadness and despondency in its wake. The room felt so empty now. It was so lonely without Ignis beside him. Why had he got so angry? Why had he pushed him away? With feelings of guilt and hopelessness running through his mind, the tears that had been trapped behind his eyelids began to fall and, this time, he didn’t even bother to try to hold them in. Ignis was better off without him. They all were…

********

Somehow, in the midst of all the confusion and despair he was feeling, he must have drifted off to sleep because when he finally opened his eyes, the room was dark with the exception of the glow of the fluorescent strip lights that shone in from the corridor, casting shadows over the wall nearest his bed. He realised that he was lying flat on his back again rather than in the propped up position that Ignis had left him in, the pillows carefully arranged underneath his head. He wondered who had helped him lie back down. Ignis, maybe? Prompto looked longingly at the chair by his bed where his lover usually sat while he waited for him to wake up. He wasn’t surprised to see it empty. Why would Ignis be here when Prompto had been so angry with him, when he had snapped and hurt him?

The room was silent- a kind of thick silence that normally would have made Prompto anxious. But tonight, it worked like a salve, caressing his skin like a cool summer breeze and soothing his soul, taking away the jagged edges that were becoming all too apparent these days, not just to himself- he’d always known they were there and had tried, all his life, to hide them away from the world- but to others too. It scared him how exposed he felt, lying in this bed, unable to do things for himself, his emotions spilling out of him like someone had found the key and unlocked the door to an all-too-full cupboard, the contents finally escaping. So now, the room devoid of all sound except for his own rhythmic breathing, the silence was comforting and Prompto felt at peace with himself for the first time since he had arrived here. 

As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts, he was aware of the creek of the door as it opened just a crack, followed by the sound of voices from just outside, talking in hushed whispers so as not to disturb him. He strained to listen, curious as to what they were saying. He knew Ignis and Gladio were hiding things from him- things that he needed to know- and it only added to his frustration. He could make out Gladio’s voice now, an angry edge to it as there always seemed to be lately, but he couldn’t quite tell who he was talking to. He presumed Ignis was with him but…he thought he could hear a third voice too. He wasn’t sure. 

“You heard the doc, Iggy. It’s gonna take a long time for him to recover. I mean, fuck, the kid can still barely move and it’s been weeks now. It’s about time we started to accept that maybe he’s not gonna get better.” Gladio’s words stung and Prompto felt his breath catch at the back of his throat, his eyes burning with the tears that threatened to force their way out. They had all told him how well he was doing, that he was getting better. He could move his hands now, couldn’t he? He could talk- it was still hard to think about what he wanted to say and having longer conversations made his head throb with the pain and concentration, but he was talking. He couldn’t be like this forever, he just couldn’t…

“Gladio. I refuse to believe it. He is getting stronger every day and, with our help, there is no reason why he…”

“Fuck, Iggy- you’re living in a dream world.” Gladio cut Ignis off mid-sentence, his voice harsh, cutting through the air like a knife. “I _know_ you love him but you can’t keep protecting him. It’s not fair on him, on any of us.”

“He’s not strong enough. He needs us, Gladio. He needs me.” Iggy spoke softly, his words almost inaudible to Prompto’s ear. So they had been lying to him. They thought he was weak, that he wouldn’t be able to cope with the truth. Maybe they were right.

“We can’t just give up on him!” muttered the third voice, just loud enough for Prompto to hear. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t recognised that voice before- it was so familiar to him. His best friend. Noct was here, he was awake. Prompto’s heart leapt in his chest. Noct would help him figure all this out, even if everyone else was losing hope. 

“Who asked your opinion, Princess?” Gladio growled. “When you feel like you wanna step up and do your duty, I might think about listening to what you have to say. But until then, stay the fuck out of it.”

Prompto frowned- he didn’t understand what was going on at all. Why was Gladio so angry with Noct? What did he mean about him ‘stepping up and doing his duty’?

“He’s my best friend, don’t I have the right to…”

“Look around you, Prince Charmless. So many people have taken a hit for you, and for what? So you can sit around moping and feeling sorry for yourself? Grow up and think about what you’re doing. I’ve had it with you.” 

There was a loud grunt followed by the heavy footsteps of Gladio presumably storming away in anger. Prompto clenched his fists tightly. 

“Gladio, please,” Ignis pleaded, the pain in his voice enough to make Prompto wish he could jump out of the bed and rush to his lover’s side, protecting him from Gladio’s harsh words. He could clearly picture the expression on Ignis’ face- hurt and slightly frightened. He knew that Ignis hated any sort of conflict- the two of them were the same in that way. Even from where he lay in his bed, on the other side of the door from where his friends were talking, Prompto could feel the tension in the air. A sudden realisation dawned on him, and he jammed his eyes shut to try and push the thought from his mind. His friends were fighting because of him. And he hated it. He slammed his hand down against the bed, the frustration once again building inside him. Why was he so damn useless? 

He heard the door swing open and clenched his eyes even more tightly shut, turning his head away from the door so that Ignis would think he was still sleeping. He couldn’t let them know he had heard anything. Ignis was right- he wasn’t strong enough.

“Prom?” It was Noct’s voice. It sounded so childlike, so lost, so broken.

“He’s still sleeping, Noct. We will return later- I am sure he wishes to see you too. Come now- we have much to discuss.”

With those words still lingering in the air, the door clicked shut again, footsteps gradually becoming quieter and quieter as they moved away down the corridor until the room was engulfed in silence once more. Prompto’s mind was overwhelmed with thoughts, but he kept replaying Gladio and Ignis’ conversation again and again in his head. The more he thought about it, the worse the pounding in his head got- he wanted to scream and shout and run away from all of it, but instead he felt trapped. And maybe the man from his nightmares- whoever he was- was right after all. Perhaps he would never be able to escape. Perhaps he would be trapped forever…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your comments and messages this last week have meant so much to me. It's been a bit of a struggle but you have all helped massively, so thank you. You are appreciated more than you realise!
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> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/)


	5. Noct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After thinking about his conversation with Gladio, Noct feels guilty and unsure of what to do next. He is desperate to see his best friend and help Ignis cheer him up. Maybe seeing Prompto will help him make a decision about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been lacking a bit of motivation this week, but your lovely comments have made me keep going and I've finally managed to get this chapter finished!
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> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/)

Noct felt like he was drowning. Like he was being pushed underwater with no way back up, the surface lost and completely out of sight. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now. So much had happened: Luna was dead, Ignis was blind. His best friend had nearly died! They had all been willing to give their lives for him and now…well, now he wanted to run away and hide from everything. He couldn’t fix this, nobody could. He had let everybody down. But, in a way, he thought, it was their fault for believing that he was strong enough- good enough- to be able to step up and do his duty. He didn’t want to do it- he had _never_ wanted to. He wasn’t even sure that he could. He had already failed so many people, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to cope if he messed things up again. What was the point in trying if he knew he was going to fail? What was the point in getting people’s hopes up? He was no saviour…

“Noct, are you even listening to me?” 

Noct blinked several times and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Even now, when Ignis was trying to talk to him, was trying to help him make a decision about what to do next, he had zoned out. It was like he was in a world of his own most of the time these days. A world where his father was still alive. A world where his friends were happy and healthy. A world with Luna. He wanted to stay there but he knew, deep down, that Gladio was right. He may not _want_ to do what was expected of him but it was too late now. Even if he did nothing, things would never be able to go back to the way they were. The only way was forward. But he wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to move on yet. Moving on would be like admitting that things had changed, that Luna was dead, and he couldn’t do that. It was too soon.

“Noct!” Ignis’s voice cut through the air, the hint of frustration behind his words forcing Noct to snap back to reality.

“I don’t know, Iggy,” he sighed, placing his head in his hands. “I’m tired. Can’t we do this later?”

“No, Noct. It’s been long enough. Gladio is right- we can’t stay here forever. You need to decide what you want to do next.” Ignis’ words were firm and straight to the point- as they always were. “I can only advise you. Ultimately, as king, the final decision must be your own.” Ignis placed a strong hand on Noct’s shoulder, turning to face him, a grave expression across his face.

It hurt seeing the scars that now marred Ignis’ face, watching him gingerly make his way across a room with the use of his cane to guide him, seeing him struggle with simple tasks. Noct didn’t know exactly what had happened- Ignis refused to talk about it and closed up completely when he had tried to ask- but he knew it had something to do with him. Ignis had always protected him, ever since they were children. He had always been the one to keep him safe, and he had sworn to give his life to ensure that Noct was able to fulfil his duty. The guilt that Noct felt when he thought about Ignis giving up his sight to protect him, to save him, was overwhelming. He wasn’t sure he was worth it. 

“Do you think I don’t know that!” The words had escaped his mouth before he could stop himself, the acidity that tainted his voice surprising even himself. Upon seeing Ignis’ face crumble, he immediately wished he could push them back inside and lock his mouth closed. “Iggy…I’m sorry, I…” Noct was quieter now, ashamed of the way he had spoken to his friend who was, after all, only being honest about the situation, trying to regain some semblance of control over everything where Noct was still unable to. Hadn’t he hurt Ignis enough already without snapping at him too? Why couldn’t he just keep his damn mouth shut, instead of exploding with anger every time someone tried to help him?

“It’s alright, Noct. I know you didn’t mean it,” Ignis soothed, his expression softening slightly.

Noct ran his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tried to regain his composure. “It’s just…I don’t know what to do. Everything is going wrong, Iggy, and Gladio…”

“Gladio should not have said those things, Noct. _You_ are the king- these decisions are yours to make, and yours alone. We do not have the right to force you to do things you are not ready to do.” Ignis frowned, pushing the dark glasses he had taken to wearing further up his nose so that they lay in a more comfortable position. “But you must know this: Gladio only wants what is best. He cares about you, Noct. We all do- please remember that.”

“Thanks, Iggy,” Noct muttered. How could Ignis sound so confident, so sure of himself, after everything that had happened? Here Noct was, wallowing in misery and self pity, when Ignis- who was recovering from having sustained life-changing injuries whilst at the same time trying to care for the man he loved- had never once complained. Noct found himself admiring his friend’s strength, wishing he could be more like him.

“It is also worth considering that Gladio may have a point.” Ignis was speaking again, his voice reassuringly calm and measured. “Prompto may never fully recover. We may not be able to wait for him to regain enough strength to continue with us on our journey.” 

For a moment, Noct was lost for words- how could Ignis be talking this way about the one he loved? How could he even consider giving up on him? “Iggy, you can’t mean that!” He felt his eyes brim with tears and felt embarrassed until he remembered that Ignis was unable to see him crying anyway. “We can’t leave him behind! You said it yourself- he needs us. He needs you!”

“I don’t want to leave him, Noct. You know that. But we may not have another option.” This time Ignis sounded less confident, his voice quivering as he looked down at the floor to hide his face from Noct. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he cleared his throat, and Noct felt sure that he was on the verge of tears. “I fear that I am unable to speak objectively about this- my feelings for Prompto are clouding my judgement in this matter, as I am sure you understand.”

Noct did understand, of course he did! Ignis loved Prompto more than anything- that much had been clear for a long time now. But Noct loved his best friend too. Did Ignis really expect that he would be able to put his feelings aside and make a rational decision? 

“Can I see him, Iggy? He must be awake by now, surely. I can’t decide anything without talking to him first.”

“As you wish. However, a small warning before we proceed: Prompto is, understandably, very fragile. You must be careful not to upset him. He needs our support now more than anything.” There was a vulnerability to Ignis’ voice that Noct wasn’t sure he had heard before in all the time he had known him, and it sent pangs of guilt rushing through his body.

“Iggy, he is my best friend! I just need to see him. Please!” 

Noct could hear the pleading in his voice as he spoke, the high-pitched tone making him sound childish and immature- not at all like the king he was supposed to be. He knew it would have made Gladio angry, but Ignis didn’t chide him, didn’t tell him to grow up. Instead, he merely nodded slightly, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips.

“You’re a good friend, Noct. Prompto is lucky to have you.”

No, Noct thought. For once, Ignis was wrong. _He_ was the lucky one to have Prompto by his side, filling each of his days with laughter and happiness. Even when things got tough, when the pressure of having to do his duty became almost too much, his best friend was there to share the load, to make things more bearable. And now it was his turn to repay the favour.

********

As Noct stood outside Prompto’s room, his mouth suddenly became dry and his hands clammy. He felt nervous for some reason. He tried to swallow, the lack of moisture causing a lump to form at the back of his throat.

“Um…Iggy?” he questioned, looking at the advisor who was standing with one hand already on the door handle.

“Yes, Noct? Is everything alright?” Ignis’ hand moved swiftly to rest on Noct's shoulder as he turned to face him.

“Just…I…shit,” Noct stammered, running his hands through his hair as he fought to find the words that he wanted to say. “It’s just…how do I talk to him, Iggy? What do I say?” He could feel tears threatening to escape as he pictured his best friend lying there in the hospital bed, unable to move, unable to do any of the things he loved. Gladio and Ignis had told him of Prompto’s injuries but it still didn’t seem real. Not without seeing it for himself. He knew that Prompto had been struggling, not just physically but emotionally too, and it hurt so much to imagine his usual playful and upbeat friend alone in there, the energy and positivity that normally followed him around completely absent. 

Ignis let out a soft chuckle as he released Noct’s shoulder. 

“He is still the same person, Noct. And you two have never had any shortage of things to say to each other before.” Ignis smiled warmly, causing some of Noct’s anxiety to fade. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Yes. Of course he would be able to talk to Prompto. Why was he being so ridiculous? 

“OK, I’m ready,” He was relieved to hear his voice sounding more confident this time. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists, determined to be strong like Ignis, to act like everything was normal. He could do that. If it helped his best friend to feel more like himself again, he was willing to do anything.

“Prom, darling- are you awake?” Ignis had opened the door a crack and was calling Prompto’s name softly. 

Noct allowed himself to smile. He had known that his two friends were perfect for each other- probably even before they had realised it themselves. It had been him that had pushed the two of them together, inventing ever more ludicrous reasons for them to spend time together without him and Gladio. Hiding his motivations from Gladio had been a challenge, to say the least- so much so that he had let him in on the secret after a while, and was surprised at the eagerness with which Gladio agreed to help him play matchmaker. When Prompto and Ignis had eventually found out what that had been doing, they had been furious- especially Ignis, who had refused to speak to either of them for a week. It had been worth it though when they had finally admitted their feelings for each other. Noct had never seen either of them as happy as they were now that they were together. And that second, hearing the love in Ignis’ voice, he knew that, whatever other mistakes he may have made, this was something that he had got right.

“Iggy?” Noct heard a small whimper coming from the bed on the other side of the room, the pain that filled his friend’s voice making it almost unrecognisable.

“My apologies, Noct. If you have no objections, I would like to spend a few moments with Prompto alone first.” Ignis spoke with a tenderness in his voice that was only present when he was talking about his lover.

Noct nodded, before quickly remembering that Ignis wouldn’t be able to see his response.

“Sure, Iggy,” he responded, watching as Ignis stepped into the room, pulling the door gently closed behind him. He sat down on one of the chairs that lined the corridor, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes. He was happy to give his two friends as much time as they needed together.

********

Noct must have drifted off to sleep, his body still exhausted after his battle with Leviathan, as it wasn’t until he felt his shoulders being shaken that remembered where he was.

“Iggy?” Noct rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms above his head, yawning as he did so.

“Sorry, Noct. It seems I was with Prompto longer than I had planned.” Ignis sounded tired and Noct wondered what had gone on between his two friends whilst he had been sleeping. He hoped that they were OK. He had always thought that there was nothing in the world that could come between them, but he was beginning to wonder if he had been wrong about that. Ignis must have read his mind because, even before Noct opened his mouth to ask the question, he smiled- looking almost like his old self again. “Prompto and I are fine. You have nothing to worry about. We just had some things that we needed to talk about. He is a little tired- as are you by the looks of it- but he is eager to see you if you feel up to it.”

“You know I want to,” Noct replied, jumping to his feet a little too quickly and stumbling into Ignis, who caught him deftly in both arms. Noct noted that, even without his sight, his reaction times were still a hell of a lot quicker than his own! “Sorry, Iggy,” he mumbled, regaining his balance and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Just a bit excited to see Prom, I guess…”

Ignis laughed, the sound at last breaking the tension that had been lingering between the two of them for the past few weeks. “Not too much excitement please, Noct. Prompto still needs his rest.”

“Calm and collected- that’s me!” Noct sniggered, knowing that Ignis knew damn well the description he had just given was completely the opposite of how he was whenever he spent time around his best friend.

“Noct!” Ignis exclaimed, the smirk on his face a stark contrast to the serious tone of his voice.

“Relax, Iggy. I’m kidding. I promise I’ll keep things calm in there.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ignis replied. “Shall we go in then?” Before even waiting for his response, Ignis moved to open the door, gesturing to Noct to go into the room ahead of him. “I’ll be right here, Noct. Just in case…”

Noct wasn’t sure what Ignis meant by ‘just in case’, and he didn’t think it wise to ask. Nevertheless, he appreciated having his advisor by his side. Yes, Prompto was his best friend but, in his tired and depressed state, he wasn’t sure he would be able to find the right words to cheer him up. He’d done so much damage already that he was terrified of making things even worse, of saying the wrong thing, of hurting Prompto even more.

Peering around the frame of the door, Noct gave his friend a feeble wave.

“Hey Prom.” Noct forced his lips into what he hoped was a bright and cheerful smile, desperate to hide the emotion that was welling up inside him as he was confronted by the sight of his best friend looking so unlike his usual self that, for a second, Noct had to look closely to check that it _was _actually him. His face was even paler than usual and the red rings around his eyes suggested that he had been crying.__

__“Noct!” Noct looked on helplessly as Prompto struggled to get himself comfortable. The effort that it was taking his friend to push himself up into a seated position in the bed was hard to see and he wished he could do something to help. His instincts told him to rush forward and offer assistance, but instead he held back, lingering in the doorway. He knew Prompto, and he knew that help would not be what his friend wanted right now. He wouldn’t want any reminder of how helpless he currently was, of how much support he needed to do the most basic of tasks. He would just want people to be normal around him, to treat him as they would have done before all this had happened. And that was exactly what Noct planned to do._ _

__He moved further into the room and took a seat in the chair by the bed, the wide smile that was fixed on his face already causing his cheeks to ache with the effort of holding it in place. Ignis followed him cautiously, choosing to sit on the edge of the bed, as close to Prompto as he possibly could. Noct watched as he clasped one of Prompto’s hands in his own, raising it to his lips and kissing the back of it softly with so much love that it made Noct’s heart ache. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he blushed, quickly looking away to avoid intruding on what he thought was a very intimate moment._ _

__“Well,” Ignis cleared his throat, causing Noct to look back up from where he had been staring at the floor. “I’ll leave you two to it. I shall be just outside if you need me.” Ignis stood up, taking hold of his cane before stooping down to place a delicate kiss on Prompto’s lips. Noct’s eyes followed his advisor as he navigated- almost expertly, he thought- across the room towards the door, leaving it open behind him as he left._ _

__“It’s good to see you,” Prompto tried to smile. Noct noticed that his friend was speaking slowly and that his words were still slightly slurred, as if speaking was an effort for him. “I thought…I thought you’d never come…”_ _

__As he spoke, Noct spotted a sadness in his friend’s eyes that his smile couldn’t hide and the feelings of guilt that he had been trying so hard to ignore flared up again, so much so that he began to feel slightly nauseous. He swallowed and forced out a small chuckle in an attempt to appear relaxed._ _

__“Yeah, dude. Sorry it took a while for me to come and visit. I guess I was exhausted!”_ _

__“Iggy said you were sleeping. Lazy as always…”_ _

__“You know me, taking any opportunity for a nap!” Noct tried to sound light-hearted as he spoke but he could feel his smile wavering slightly as he took in his friend’s appearance. He was wearing his glasses, which Noct knew he hated, and his usually perfectly styled blonde hair was pushed back from his face, making him look young and vulnerable. The cuts and grazes had mostly healed but a few stubborn bruises, one spreading towards his lower lip from underneath his jaw and one around his left eye, remained. Noct found his eyes drifting towards the painful-looking, deep red scar that trailed across Prompto’s right cheek, cutting a line through his freckles and noticeably standing out against his ashen skin._ _

__“It’s…um…pretty bad, right?” Prompto sniffed, his voice trembling as if he might burst into tears at any moment._ _

__Shit. What was he supposed to say to that? Noct looked around, desperately wishing that Ignis or Gladio or _anybody_ would magically appear in the room and help him figure out the right answer, or at least stop him from saying something stupid. But no, it was just him. He would have to do this on his own. _ _

__“Nah, dude. Nothing that won’t heal,” he replied brightly, trying to keep any trace of concern out of his voice. Prompto didn’t need people worrying right now. He let out a small laugh as he gestured towards his friend’s hair. “Might wanna get someone to help you fix that though. Even the usual chocobo butt looks better than this!”_ _

__As soon as he said it, relief flooded through him as he realised that he had done exactly the right thing by keeping things light and cheery. Prompto grinned, the smile reaching all the way to his eyes this time, causing the violet-blue irises to sparkle behind his glasses._ _

__“Hey…no chocobo butt jokes!” he giggled softly, his cheeks flushing pink as he smiled, making him look so much more like himself than he had when Noct had first entered the room. “Seriously though…I’m glad you’re here.”_ _

__“Of course I’m here, Prom,” Noct said quietly, catching the blonde’s eye and giving him a reassuring smile. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”_ _

__They had a lot to talk about, Noct knew that. He would have to explain about Luna. He would have to make a decision about whether to wait for Prompto to recover or whether he would have to do the unthinkable and leave his best friend behind. But he didn’t have to do any of that today. Today, all he had to do was sit by his friend’s side and just be there for him. Everything else could wait._ _

__“Thanks Noct. You’re the best.”_ _

__Noct smiled- a proper smile this time- as he looked at his best friend, thinking back to what Gladio had said about him not being strong enough to handle the truth. Seeing Prompto now, smiling and positive in spite of everything, made him truly believe that he could handle anything that was thrown his way._ _

__“No, Prom,” he replied. “ _You’re_ the best.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has supported me to keep writing- your help means the world to me.


	6. Gladio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Altissia, Gladio has been struggling to sleep. He knows that he shouldn't be taking out his frustration on his friends but he just can't seem to help himself. A heart to heart with Ignis makes him feel so much more positive about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words did _not_ come easily this week, so sorry that this is a little short. I promise I'll make up for it next time as the rest of this is all planned out now!
> 
> Not sure how many people are still reading this but, for those that are, I massively appreciate all your kind comments. You're all wonderful <3
> 
> There will be no update next week (got stuff to write for Glaive Week) but after that I have promised myself that I will update every Monday until this is complete.

Gladio had never had any trouble sleeping. Even as a young child, he had possessed the ability to sleep through almost anything, including Iris’ perpetual screaming as a baby and his father’s resultant shouting. It wasn’t that he was a deep sleeper exactly- he knew that if anything happened in the night, if Noct needed his protection, he would be wide awake in a flash, ready to do whatever it took to ensure Noct’s safety. He was an early riser too, though he supposed that was out of habit more than anything. When he was younger, he had been up at the crack of dawn every day to train, and that pattern had continued into adulthood. But no matter how early he had needed to get up, he had always awoken feeling rested and prepared for the day ahead, knowing that his body had gotten the sleep it needed.

Recently, instead of waking up feeling rejuvenated, Gladio found himself reluctantly having to drag his heavy limbs out of bed each morning after having spent the entire night tossing and turning. He was beginning to get used to seeing colour slowly seep back into the walls as night faded away and the sun rose above the horizon, indicating the start of a new day. Sleep had deserted him and, as a result, fatigue ruled over his life, controlling every thought, action and emotion. During the day, when he needed to be alert, desperate to be able to think clearly and make the decisions that needed to be made, the fuzzy exhaustion that filled his brain begged for unconsciousness, for sleep at any price. But come the hours of darkness, when he found himself alone in the comfort of his bed, able at last to close his weary eyes, his mind lit up with new possibilities, new sources of disaster and danger. He wanted to let these thoughts go, let them float away so that his mind could be clear and at peace. He knew it was the only chance he had of being able to sleep. But the more he tried to relax, the more intrusive his thoughts became. More often than not, Gladio found himself lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, tuning his hearing in to Ignis’ steady breathing as he lay asleep in the bed on the other side of the room. It was reassuring to know that Ignis was there, that he was alive and safe.

Tonight, though, was even worse than usual and Gladio felt the long minutes drag into even longer hours as he watched the clock by his bed, the ticking sound- overly loud against the silence of the room- almost enough to make him to pick it up and hurl it across the room in frustration. He sighed. It was no use even trying to sleep. He knew that it had eluded him for the night yet again and that he would end up with another long day ahead and no chance to rest. He needed to do something to clear his mind, to put an end to these sleepless nights. But he had no idea what. 

Ignis would know what to do though, Gladio was sure of it. Ignis always knew the right thing to do or say to make him feel better. He had always been there for him when he needed him, whether that was with words and comfort or, more often, with helpful, practical suggestions and solutions. He glanced over at his friend, the darkness that blanketed his still form already easing enough that Gladio was able to make out his silhouette in the neighbouring bed. He had not yet told any of the others about the trouble he had been having sleeping, instead choosing to conceal his tiredness with anger and irritation. He had lashed out more than he should have already- several times at Noct, whose behaviour and attitude he probably would have found frustrating even under the best of circumstances. But yesterday, he had snapped at Ignis. Caring, patient, devoted Ignis, who didn’t deserve any of the shit that he had been dealt. Gladio had apologised, tried his best to take back what he had said, promised to make things better, but the look on Ignis’ face had told him it was too late. He had hurt his best friend, and he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forgive himself. 

Gladio threw back the covers, groaning quietly as he pulled himself up into a seated position. He dragged his feet off the bed, a shiver running up his spine as the soles of his bare feet touched the cold floor. Rubbing his knuckles into his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up properly, he stretched his arms above his head before standing up, grabbing the pile of clothes that he had left beside his bed and tiptoeing towards the door of the room, trying his hardest not to disturb Ignis. It was still early and, although Ignis would say otherwise, Gladio knew that his friend was still recovering from his own injuries. The doctors had said that the more rest he could get, the quicker his recovery would be. He was determined to let his friend sleep as long as possible, no matter how desperate he was to talk to him. All that could wait. The day was long enough as it was, and there would be plenty of time to talk later.

“Gladio?” Ignis’ mumbled voice, still half asleep, made him stop in his tracks, and he turned around to peer back at his friend, forehead wrinkled in annoyance. How had he managed to wake him? He’d been trying so hard to stay quiet. 

“Shh, Iggy. It’s still early. Go back to sleep…” he whispered, walking over to the bed and awkwardly perching on the end of it, placing a hand on Ignis’ shoulder to indicate his presence.

Gladio watched Ignis turn over onto his side and pull the covers more tightly around him. His eyes settled upon the scar that now entirely engulfed his friend’s left eye, the rough, reddened skin stretched taut across his face. Whatever Ignis insisted about being fully recovered, the wound was still healing and glistened slightly in the early morning light. Gladio thought it looked incredibly painful but Ignis had never once complained. He never complained about anything…

“Why are you awake?” Ignis spoke softly, his words slightly slurred as he struggled to keep himself from drifting back to sleep.

“Just…couldn’t sleep. Thought going for a run might help.” Gladio rubbed the back of his neck. It felt stiff and painful, just like the rest of his muscles. The lack of sleep was affecting him physically as well as mentally and he didn’t like it one bit. He wasn’t used to his body feeling as though it was falling apart. He rarely got ill and, even when he did, he was quick to recover, the effects on his body never lingering for more than a couple of days. This had been more than a couple of days and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever sleep again.

“Mmm…”

Gladio groaned as he forced his body up from the bed, stretching again in an attempt to ease some of the ache that permeated every muscle of his body. Perhaps going for a run wasn’t such a good idea but he didn’t know what else to do. The thought of staying here and wallowing in his own thoughts until morning arrived just wasn’t an option- he had to get out and do something.

“You need anything before I go?”

“No, I think I’ll try to get some more sleep.”

“Good plan.” As he turned to leave, he paused for a second, trying to figure out the words he wanted to say. The words he _needed_ to say. “Oh..and Iggy?”

“Mmm?” 

Gladio wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a twinge of frustration in Ignis’ voice. He knew this wasn’t the time to have this conversation- it was early, they were both tired and Ignis had literally just said that he wanted to get some more sleep. But he had started, so he supposed he might as well finish.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” He could feel a lump in his throat as he spoke, his mouth becoming so dry that, for a moment, he thought the words would get stuck there and refuse to come out. 

The awkward silence that hung in the air as he awaited his friend’s response seemed to last just a few seconds too long, and the tension that grew between the two of them made Gladio almost wish that he had just kept quiet, that he hadn’t said anything at all. He didn’t know what he expected Ignis’ reply to be but he needed him to say _something_. He needed to hear that everything was okay. That _they_ were going to be okay.

“I know.” When he eventually spoke, Ignis’ voice was quiet and subdued in a way that Gladio had never heard before. He sounded broken. There was another pause before Ignis spoke again. “Enjoy your run. I hope it helps.” He gave Gladio a tiny smile before pulling the covers up further so that they concealed his face. Gladio took this action as his cue to leave. They could talk more later, when they were both more awake. 

“Thanks, Iggy. Sleep well.”

This run _had_ to help. He didn’t feel like it was just Noct that he needed to protect anymore. Without even realising it, he had come to feel more and more responsible for Ignis and Prompto too. And now Gladio was going to do everything in his power to make sure that they were all okay…

********

Two hours later, as he stood in the shower letting the hot water run cathartically over his tired body, he allowed himself to finally relax to the hypnotic pitter patter of the running water. Gladio felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in weeks. The run had helped him clear his mind, as he had hoped it would, and now, despite his body's objections at being forced to exercise when it was not properly rested and the aches and pains he would undoubtably have to suffer for the next day or so, he was beginning to feel at least a little more positive about the future.

Gladio switched off the running water and stepped out into the cold bathroom, shivering slightly as he reached for his towel before rubbing himself down vigorously, a new feeling of determination coursing through his veins. He dressed quickly, eager to go and talk to Ignis, to share some of his new-found optimism. It was what everyone needed, he knew that now. He wasn’t sure why he had felt so incapable of being positive before, but he was glad he had finally managed to find it within him. It would help, he was convinced of it. Perhaps now they would be able to make the decisions they needed to make. Perhaps now they could return to some semblance of happiness. Things would never be the same as they had been, there was no point being unrealistic. But they could be better. 

“Iggy?” Gladio emerged into the hotel room he shared with his friend to see Ignis sitting on the edge of his bed, shoulders hunched and his head in his hands. He was half dressed, clothes strewn all over the floor around him, and his cane lay on the floor in the middle of the room rather than within arms reach, propped up next to his bed as it normally was. It was unusual to see Ignis’ side of the hotel room in such a mess- he was usually so neat and tidy. Gladio and Noct had always teased him about his need for everything to be perfectly organised, with not a thing out of place. 

“Gladio.” Ignis cleared his throat and looked up, turning his head in the direction of Gladio’s voice. Gladio was shocked to catch sight of a single tear running out from his friend’s remaining eye and down his cheek. Ignis seemed surprised and slightly embarrassed that somebody should have discovered him in such a state, quickly wiping his face and moving to collect the clothing on the floor, feeling around for the items frantically in his urgency to pick them up.

Gladio rushed over, crouching down next to Ignis and placing one hand on top of his friend’s.

“I’m here,” he murmered, squeezing Ignis’ hand. “Let me help. Please.” 

He knew that Ignis would never ask for his assistance- he was far too proud for that. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t need it. And Gladio knew all too well the signs of somebody who was struggling, on the edge of falling apart. He was the shield, the protector. If there was anything at all that he could do to make things easier for Ignis, for _any_ of his friends, he would do everything in his power to make sure that it happened. It was what he was here for, after all. 

It was a sign of just how bad Ignis must have been feeling that he didn’t resist, merely pulling his hand out from underneath Gladio’s and slumping back into the bed, pressing his face into the pillow in an attempt to hide. Gladio suspected that he was still trying, probably unsuccessfully, to hold back tears, but he didn’t say anything. If Ignis didn’t want him to know he was crying, he would simple pretend that he hadn’t noticed.

Gladio continued to work in silence, picking up each item of clothing and folding it neatly, before placing them carefully in a pile on the end of the bed. It didn’t take long until the room looked almost the same as it had when he had woken up earlier than morning. 

“There,” he said, sitting on the bed next to Ignis. “All done.”

There was silence for a few moments followed by a small sniff.

“Thank you, Gladio,” Ignis replied, his voice quiet and trembling. “Your help is very much appreciated.” He sat up, leaning his back against the pillows, his cheeks still damp and slightly pink, the most miserable expression that Gladio had ever seen etched across his face.

“It’s no trouble- you know that.” Gladio paused, unsure of the right words to say. He needed Ignis to know that he could always ask for his help, whenever he needed it. But, at the same time, he knew Ignis enough to know that he would be struggling with the worry of being a burden. He didn’t want to make him feel any worse that he already did. “It’s never any trouble. I’m always happy to help.”

“I…um…I couldn’t even dress myself this morning,” Ignis mumbled, looking down at the bed, his cheeks flushing deep crimson. “I got angry and…well, I’m sure you saw where my cane ended up.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Iggy! It’ll take some time to…you know… adjust to things. You can’t expect to just be able to do everything easily straight away. It’ll take practice.” Gladio hoped that some of the positive energy he had felt earlier was managing to seep into his voice and, more importantly, that some of it might rub off on his friend. He couldn’t bear seeing Ignis so unhappy.

Ignis sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead and reaching for his glasses that lay next to the bed. Gladio leant across to guide his hand towards them, and Ignis gave him a small smile in gratitude.

“I know you’re right, Gladio. I’m sorry. I’m afraid I just feel rather useless at the moment.”

“I understand. I’ve been feeling exactly the same,” Gladio admitted. He thought back to how much better he had felt after getting outside for his run. He really did feel like a different person compared to how he had been feeling over the previous couple of days. He couldn’t ask Ignis to come running with him- that would be ridiculous. But perhaps a walk in the fresh air might help him begin to feel a bit better. Over the past few weeks he had barely been outside, moving between recovering in the hospital, visiting Prompto, and being cooped up in this hotel room. It was no wonder he felt so terrible! “It might help to get out of this room for a while. Fancy some fresh air?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I might…I might need some assistance getting dressed though.” Ignis still sounded uncertain, but he sat up straighter on the bed, immediately perking up at the idea, some of the sadness in his face disappearing to leave a more hopeful expression in its place.

“No problem! Gladio smiled. “You want a shower first?” Already he could sense a change in his friend’s mood. It was funny how such a simple suggestion could make such a difference to someone’s state of mind. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before.

Ignis seemed to ponder the thought for a few moments before shaking his head.

“I think that can wait until later. Would you mind handing me my clothes please, Gladio?”

“Sure thing,” Gladio reached over, rummaging through the pile of clothes at the end of the bed, being careful not to create more of a mess. He knew that Ignis would appreciate him keeping things tidy. “The usual?" he asked, picking out his friend’s shirt and pants and holding them up to smooth them out. 

“Perfect.” Ignis reached out his arm to take the clothes, his voice sounding stronger and more confident already.

Gladio handed the clothes to Ignis before standing up and taking a few steps away from the bed. 

“You need anything else?” he asked hesitantly. He still felt like it would be so easy to say the wrong thing, to hurt his friend’s pride, but he didn’t want to assume anything either. He had seen the state that Ignis had got himself into when he was trying to get dressed earlier and, although he seemed calmer- happier- now, if he still needed help, Gladio wanted to make sure that he was there to provide it.

“I think I’ll be fine now, Gladio,” Ignis chuckled, standing up and running his hands through his hair to smooth it down. “Wouldn’t want to make things awkward by asking you to actually help dress me.” 

Gladio laughed too, more in relief that Ignis seemed to have regained his sense of humour than at his friend’s poor attempt at a joke.

“I’ll wait outside for you then. Take your time. There’s no rush.”

He had one hand on the door handle when Ignis spoke again. His voice was so quiet that the words were nearly lost, and Gladio wasn’t even sure he had meant for him to hear them.

“Thank you.”

Gladio smiled broadly. Ignis’ smile and laughter were all the thanks he would ever need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and chat on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)


	7. Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After breaking down in front of Gladio, Ignis dreads the conversation that he knows they need to have. He doesn't want to move forward without Prompto, but he can't see any other option. Will he be brave enough to tell Prompto about their decision, or will his attempts to hide the truth just make things worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter seemed to run away with itself a bit and was a lot longer than I planned (I guess I made up for the last chapter being a bit shorter.)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy c:

Ignis sat there on the bench, fist clenched so tightly around the head of his cane that he was sure his knuckles must have been turning white. Every muscle in his body felt tense and his chest was tight, like a knot had formed there that was making it difficult for him to breathe, every inhalation seemingly taking more effort than the last. He tapped the bottom of the cane repeatedly against the ground, a nervous habit that he had picked up since having to carry it around with him. He knew that it annoyed those around him- he annoyed himself most of the time- but he couldn’t stop doing it. 

He was trying not to think about the events of that morning but it was hard to rid himself of the memories. No matter how much he tried to think about something else, they were playing on a loop in his head, like a film reel that was suck on repeat- breaking down, anger and fear spilling out of him in a way he had been unable to control; flinging his cane across the room and the clatter as it hit the ground; Gladio finding him in such a state of vulnerability that he had felt completely exposed… He wasn’t sure what had set him off exactly, but he remembered feeling more terrified, more broken than he had ever felt in his life. The reality of his situation had finally hit him, and it was more than he was willing to deal with. More than he was _able_ to deal with. All his thoughts over the past few weeks had been centred around Prompto, almost to the point that he hadn’t really had time to consider the effect that his own blindness would have on the rest of his life. He had brushed it to one side, refusing to even think about it. Perhaps that had been why he’d been spending so much time with Prompto. He loved him- of course he did- but putting all his energy into Prompto’s recovery had meant that he could almost deny his own injuries. 

He shook his head slightly, trying to force the thought from his mind. He didn’t want to think about it now. He wasn’t ready to accept it. He tilted his head to the side as he heard Gladio shift his position slightly, the rustle of his clothing as it snagged against the bench the only thing giving away his movement. Without even having to see, he knew Gladio was sitting closer to him than he needed to- so close, in fact, that their legs were touching. As he tuned in to the warmth of Gladio’s leg against his own along with deep rhythmic hum of his breathing, he felt comforted. The breeze tousled his hair, causing loose strands of it to fall forward and tickle his cheeks, flushed from the coolness of the air. He wished he could stay like this forever, drifting contentedly in this land of pretence where everything was just as it had been before the battle with Leviathan. He closed his remaining eye behind his glasses and, for a moment, was almost able to trick himself into thinking that it was just an ordinary day, that he still had his vision. He let out a deep sigh and relaxed his head back against the cool, smooth wood of the bench, loosening his grip on his cane as he began to relax. 

“Iggy?”

The sound of Gladio’s voice startled him, causing him to jump slightly, his heart racing at the shock of being forced from his dream-like state.

“Sorry, Iggy. Didn’t meant to scare you.” Gladio cleared his throat, placing a hand uneasily on Ignis’ shoulder. It lingered there, skimming the surface as if Gladio wasn’t sure whether to grip more firmly or to pull away completely.

People kept doing that recently- touching him. He supposed they were doing it to indicate their presence, that the touch of their body against his own was the non-verbal communication they thought he needed. It should have been welcome- soothing, even. He knew that, but he still wasn’t sure whether he found it reassuring or just plain irritating.

Ignis reluctantly forced his eye open, the skin around it still tight and painful, to be faced with the inevitable darkness that he expected. He wasn’t surprised- it’s not as if he hadn’t realised that his blindness was, more likely than not, going to be permanent. But it would have been a lie to say that he wasn’t somewhat disappointed. Every time he opened his eye, he hoped above everything that a miracle would have happened, that he would have regained his vision. He sighed again, resuming the tapping of his cane against the concrete.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Ignis looked up in surprise as Gladio’s voice, once again, cut through his thoughts.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he muttered, a slight frown on his face as he angled it away. 

He hadn’t meant to make his thoughts so obvious but, somehow, Gladio had picked up on how he was feeling. Ignis had always prided himself on being able to hide his emotions and had got himself a bit of a reputation for being hard to read. It was something that he had always been grateful for. Inside, hidden from the others, was a whole world full of anxieties that he had only ever shared with Prompto- and even then the things he had been brave enough to tell him only skimmed the surface. 

Ignis could picture Gladio’s face in his mind, fixed in that concerned expression that he wore whenever he was about to chastise him for working too hard, or for doing too much for Noct- babying him, as Gladio called it, though Ignis had always disagreed.

“Oh come on, Iggy. You can’t hide this from me.” 

Ignis didn’t answer, instead continuing to play with the handle of his cane, thoughts fixated on the rhythmic tap, tap, tap as it repetitively scuffed the floor by his feet. Ignis could sense Gladio jump up, letting out a grunt of irritation and swinging the cane out from Ignis’ hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ignis said indignantly. “Give that back this instant!”

There was silence for a few moments and Ignis began to feel panic rising in his stomach. Without his sight, he relied upon sound and touch, much as he hated to admit it. Now, in the absence of any noise, he felt disorientated. Frightened, even.

“Gladio!”

“Walk with me?” It was a question rather than a statement, and Ignis was rather taken aback by the uncertainty that laced Gladio’s words. It seemed very out of character and it filled Ignis’ stomach with dread at the thought of the conversation that he was sure they were about to have. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened to him. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure he ever would be. 

“I rather think I might need my cane for that.” Ignis took a deep breath as he raised one eyebrow, reaching out his hand expectantly. 

He was grateful when the familiar cold, metallic handle was finally thrust back into his hand, his fingers closing around it in a tight grip. He climbed slowly to his feet, leaning on his cane as he did so, stumbling slightly in spite of its support as he began to shuffle forward towards Gladio.

“Damn it…” he muttered to himself, feeling Gladio’s hand quickly grab his arm, pulling him up as he began to fall. “Many thanks.” He tried to smile but, instead, was ashamed to feel tears prick, once again, at the corners of his eyes. “Sorry…I…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Gladio cut him off mid sentence, squeezing his arm as he spoke. “Apart from that damn tapping, that is!” Ignis could hear a glimmer of laughter in Gladio’s words.

“My apologies. It’s a habit that I seem to have picked up from somewhere…”

“Then we’d all better hope you drop it as quickly as you picked it up. It’s annoying as hell, you know that?” Gladio chuckled, guiding Ignis forward, his hand still resting loosely against his arm.

“I _have_ realised that.” Ignis turned to glare at Gladio, realising that a smile had crept onto his own face.

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes, the chirping of birds as they hovered in the trees lining the streets more obvious to Ignis than they had ever been when he’d had his vision. He supposed his other senses were beginning to become more finely tuned to his environment, noticing the things around him that he hadn’t needed to concern himself with before, just as the doctors had told him that they would. It was a way of his body helping him adapt to life without vision, a way of helping him compensate for the loss of one of his senses. He listened more carefully to the melodious chorus of seemingly never repeated notes, cascading through the branches and tumbling into the crisp, early afternoon air like a great river of music.

“Beautiful…” he murmered, so engrossed in the cacophony of sounds that he hadn’t realised he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

“Huh?”

“Oh…nothing important,” Ignis muttered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He was sure that Gladio wouldn’t want to hear his unimportant ramblings- not when there were much more serious matters to discuss. 

“No, I’d like to hear. What’s beautiful?”

“I was just noticing the birds singing. There are so many different melodies- like an orchestra. It reminded me of one of the pieces of music my uncle used to play back in Insomnia,” he replied softly, suddenly feeling a little homesick as memories of his childhood rushed through his mind.

“Oh…I hear it now.” Gladio’s fingers pinched his arm more tightly as they came to a standstill. They stood there, arms linked together as they listened, not a word passing between them. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence though. It felt calm and peaceful, the cool air and the beautiful music soothing away some of Ignis’ earlier frustration.

I don’t know why I’ve never noticed them before…”

“Didn’t the doctor say your hearing would become more astute? Guess that’s what happening. Pretty cool though.”

Ignis nodded in agreement, unable to find the words to express how he was feeling.

“Wanna take a seat for a bit? There’s another bench just over there.”

“Yes. That might be a good plan,” Ignis agreed, gripping desperately onto Gladio’s arm, no persuasion needed this time as he gingerly stepped forward, the ground underneath his feet suddenly feeling more uneven. It was making him feel unsteady, like he might fall at any minute. It didn’t help that his muscles were aching, his whole body feeling utterly exhausted despite the fact they hadn’t walked more than a couple of hundred metres. He no longer trusted his tired legs to be able to navigate the pathways without tripping, even _with_ Gladio’s help. “I’m afraid I feel rather tired.”

“That’s understandable, Iggy. You haven’t been outside for weeks and your body is still recovering.”

“I can assure you that I am _fully_ recovered, Gladio…” He stumbled as he spoke, his feet slipping out from underneath him. “Drat…” His hand slid from Gladio’s arm as he fell, his knee slamming against the ground as he tumbled into a heap on the floor. 

“Fuck. Iggy…are you okay?” Before he had even properly realised what was happening, Gladio was on his own hands and knees as he knelt by Ignis’ side, one arm wrapped around his back as he attempted to pull him up to a seated position.

“I’m perfectly alright,” Ignis muttered, doing his best to ignore the throbbing pain that was shooting through his right leg as he clambered to his feet, leaning on Gladio’s shoulder for support as he did so. 

“Shit, Iggy. I think your leg's bleeding.” Gladio bent over, rolling up the leg of Ignis’ pants to examine the wound, surprising him with the tenderness of his touch. “Hold still.” Ignis heard a rustle as Gladio got something out of his pocket, followed by something cool and soft being pressed against his knee. The stinging sensation as it rubbed against his skin made him flinch, jerking away so violently at the pain that he almost stumbled again. “Careful…” Gladio murmured softly, continuing to dab delicately at the graze.

“I _am_ being careful,” Ignis replied, dropping his cane and leaning over to rest both arms against Gladio’s shoulders, suddenly aware of the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. He teetered from side to side, unable to control his balance, his nails digging firmly into Gladio as he tried desperately to remain on his feet.

“All okay, Iggy?” Gladio had stopped what he was doing and was concentrating on rolling Ignis’ pant leg down in a way that avoided it scraping against the wound. 

“I think I should probably sit down for a while.” Ignis could feel himself trembling with the effort of trying to stay standing. “That bench isn’t far?” His voice sounded faint and distant as he concentrated on forcing back the feeing of nausea that filled the pit of his stomach.

He felt warm hands on top of his own, prising his fingers apart gently, encouraging them to loosen their grip. Gladio lifted them away from where they lay on the top of his shoulders. but, rather than releasing them as Ignis had expected, continued to clasp them tightly in his own as he stood up. Wordlessly, he placed one arm securely around Ignis waist, pulling him in tight as he led him towards the bench. Ignis wanted to scream his objections, wanted to pull away and shout that he was able to manage by himself. But he knew the reality of the situation was that he wouldn’t make it unless Gladio helped him, so he forced himself to keep his mouth shut and his words locked away inside. He hated feeling so helpless, hated having to admit that he needed help.

“Here we are.” Gladio untangled Ignis’ hand from his own and eased him down on to the bench, the stinging of his knee intensifying as the skin stretched and grated against the leg of his pants. Ignis held in a groan, screwing his eyes closed in an attempt to block out the pain. This was nothing compared to the unbearable agony he had felt in the early weeks after his injury but, coupled with his embarrassment and sense of shame, was overwhelming in its own way.

“I’m just gonna go and grab your cane. You okay here?” Far from being reassuring, the care in Gladio’s voice somehow made Ignis feel even worse, if that was possible, than he already did. He hated the thought of being a burden, of being yet another thing for his friends to worry about.

“Go…” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding as he blinked back tears.

“Iggy?” 

Ignis didn’t trust himself to speak, merely grunting to indicate that he had heard.

“Things will get better, you know?” Gladio was crouched down in front of him now, the injury to Ignis’ knee all but forgotten as he squeezed both legs tightly. “I promise they’ll get easier. You’ll adapt. I _know_ you, Iggy. You’re strong. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

Ignis said nothing, swallowing to rid himself of the lump that was forming in his throat. He knew that he couldn’t live the rest of his life like this, unable to do anything for himself. Feeling like a failure. His job was to protect Noct- that was his whole purpose. But, as things were, he couldn’t even look after himself.

“I hope you’re right, Gladio,” he replied.

“Iggy- you should know by now. I’m always right.”

In his mind, Ignis saw Gladio smirk as he spoke, his eyes twinkling with laugher at his own joke, the picture bringing a smile to Ignis’ own face. He thought of Prompto. Prompto needed him more than ever, so he couldn’t give up. Gladio was right- he was strong. He could do this. He _had_ to do this. 

Gladio returned quickly, handing him his cane, which he set down beside him so that it rested gently against his leg. 

“You know…we have to talk though. About what we’re gonna do. About Prom…” Ignis felt his face fall at the mention of Prompto’s name. He knew what Gladio wanted to say and, although he badly wanted to brush the issue under the carpet and leave it there gathering dust, he knew that he couldn’t keep ignoring it forever. It had to be dealt with sooner or later.

“Not now, Gladio…” 

“Yes. Now. If not now, then when? We’re running out of time, Iggy. You know that as well as I do.”

Ignis put his face in his hands, taking another deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, considering how to respond. He had run away from this for long enough. He had to be ready to talk about it.

“Fine,” he replied reluctantly. “I suppose there’s no time like the present. Let’s talk.”

********

Ignis somehow made it back to the hospital in one piece- though he wasn’t entirely sure how he had managed it. He was very aware of the fact that he was hanging on to Gladio’s arm more firmly with every step he took, so tightly, in fact, he was sure that, if he’d still had his vision, he would have been able to clearly see the indentations of each of his fingers against Gladio’s skin. By the time they got to Prompto’s room, he was limping, the nagging pain in his knee causing him to grimace with each bend of his leg.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go and rest?” Gladio asked as they neared the door of the room. “I’m sure Prompto can survive one morning without you.”

“I want to see him, Gladio. And besides, I don’t _need_ to rest.” Ignis could feel the frustration rising again, his stomach muscles clenching firmly as he thought about the events of that morning.

“Iggy…”

“No, Gladio. He needs me. I have to be there.” There was desperation in his voice. Gladio was trying to help- he knew that- and, if he was honest with himself, he wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep. His knee was throbbing more intensely with every passing minute and his muscles were burning from the exertions of his walk. But he had to be with Prompto. He would spend every waking moment with him if he could. He was still angry that the doctors wouldn’t let him sleep by his side, sharing the hospital room, instructing that they both needed their recovery time. Ignis knew that Prompto’s recovery would be much faster if he was able to be with him all the time but, as yet, he hadn’t managed to persuade the doctors to agree with him.

“Okay, Iggy. If you’re sure.” Gladio sounded resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to change Ignis’ mind. 

“Absolutely,” he nodded, gesturing at Gladio to open the door. “You can stay if you like? I’m sure Prompto would love to see you too.”

“Whatever you want,” Gladio replied as he swung the door open, placing a hand on the small of Ignis’ back to guide him through it. 

“Good morning, darling. Are you awake?” Ignis called, his voice immediately taking on that false cheerfulness that he was able to conjure out of nowhere whenever he visited Prompto. Without waiting for an answer, he made his way across the now familiar room without assistance, feeling around for his usual seat by Prompto’s bed.

“Morning, Iggy,” Prompto replied sleepily. “Hey, Gladdy.”

“Hey yourself, Blondie.” Ignis could hear that smile in Gladio’s voice again as he greeted Prompto, his shirt brushing against the bare skin of Ignis’ arm as he leant over to ruffle the blonde’s hair affectionately, careful- as always- the avoid the line of still painful stitches that ran from just below the crown of his head down to his neck. Although Ignis hadn’t seen Prompto’s injuries- the only blessing of not having his vision- he had felt them many times, horrified as he ran his fingers across the rough, uneven lines of twine protruding from his lover’s scalp. Even now that Prompto’s hair was beginning to grow back, the scar still stood out against Ignis’ hands, smooth and raised in contrast to the fluffy, soft tufts of short hair that surrounded it. It had been a bad head injury- the doctors had said- one of the worst that they had seen for a long time. Ignis knew that Prompto was lucky to be alive. If it hadn’t been for Gladio…well, it just didn’t bear thinking about.

“How are you doing, my love?” Ignis slid his hand towards Prompto’s face, stroking the longer strands of hair away from his forehead in a way that he knew Prompto found soothing.

“I’m…I think I’m okay.” 

Prompto’s speech was getting better every day, his words crisper and clearer. He still spoke slowly and with a slight lisp, slurring his words occasionally, considering each word before he spoke, his tongue continuing to falter over certain letters and sounds. But he was easier to understand. In the early days after the injury, Ignis had been forced to keep asking him to repeat himself, to speak more slowly so that he was able to decipher what he was saying. It had been embarrassing for Prompto, and Ignis had felt guilty doing it. But that was happening less and less. He was making good progress now- faster progress than the doctors had expected, in fact. It was heartening to Ignis to see his lover finally making his first slow, tentative steps towards recovery.

“Yeah, you’re looking better, Blondie.” Ignis felt the bed dip slightly as Gladio perched on its side. “Still pale as fuck, but that’s no different than usual.” Gladio laughed heartily and, to Ignis’s joy and surprise, Prompto let out a tiny giggle of his own.

“Gladio!” Ignis tried to sound indignant as he pretended to rush to Prompto’s defence, but was unable to resist letting out a snort of laughter himself.

“You know it’s true, Iggy,” Gladio chuckled. “Even Prom isn’t denying it!”

Smiling at the sound of his lover’s sweet, joyful laughter, absent for so many weeks now, Ignis reached out one arm out in front of him, patting around on the bed until his hand found Prompto’s. He grasped it tightly as he ran his thumb along the line of his knuckles, his lover’s skin ice-cold underneath his own warm fingertips. 

Under normal circumstances, Prompto laughed often and, although he had complained on many occasions about how much he hated his laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle it whenever he could, Ignis wasn’t ashamed to admit that it was one of his favourite things. He pictured his lover’s face, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling, their corners creased up with laughter lines as he giggled, the sound like a brook flowing merrily through a well-lit wood. He could feel the memory already fading and clung more tightly to Prompto’s hand, as if he was scared that letting go would send the images running out of his mind. He knew that he would forget one day, and the thought terrified him more than anything else.

“Iggy. Are you…are you ok?” Prompto stumbled over his words, his voice flustered and slightly uneasy.

“I’m fine, my darling,” Ignis lied, hoping that his face wouldn’t give away his distress. Prompto was so perceptive and picked up on every little detail, and Ignis knew that if he sensed any anxiety at all, any difference in Ignis’ behaviour, he would begin to panic. “I was just concerned about how cold you are. Your hands are freezing.”

“Are they? I…I hadn’t noticed. I’m sorry…”

“Why the fuck you saying sorry, Blondie?” Gladio spoke roughly, the bed rising underneath Ignis’ hand as he stood up, fading footsteps indicating that he was crossing the room. “You eating properly?”

“Um…it’s hard. I can’t really…. I need help…” Prompto sounded awkward, his words coming out softly as if he didn’t really want anyone to hear. 

“They’d better be helping you with that. Let me…. Iggy, I’m gonna go and find someone. We’re gonna get you some food, kid. I don’t mind helping but you gotta ask, okay?”

“Oh…um…’k, ” Prompto muttered.

“I’ll be back soon. You’ll be okay?” 

“I can assure you we’ll be fine,” Ignis replied, secretly relieved that Gladio had found an excuse to give the two of them some alone time. He had so much that he needed to say and, although he wasn’t sure he would be able to find the right words, he knew that he had to try. “Your help is very much appreciated as always.” He turned to smile, unsure of whether or not Gladio was still in the room. An embarrassed grunt along with the creak of a door on its hinges as it swung shut was followed by silence, broken only by the occasional quiet sniff from Prompto.

“Shh darling, it’s okay. You haven’t done anything wrong,” Ignis soothed, sliding off the chair to take Gladio’s place on the side of the bed, lifting Prompto’s head gently off the pillow and pulling it towards him, cradling it to his chest as he stroked his hands delicately up and down the blonde’s back. 

“It’s just…I feel so useless.” Prompto barely managed to choke out the words between sobs, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. “I…I can’t do anything. I don’t…I can’t…”

“Hush, Prom.” Ignis continued to run his hands reassuringly up and down Prompto’s back, stopping only to bury his fingers in the hair at the nape of his head, massaging gently, his forefinger exploring the border between short, new spikes and the older, longer strands on either side of the scar.

“I…I can’t ask Gladio to…to help me…gods…I’m so…I’m so pathetic.”

“Far from it, my love. You are so strong and I’m proud of you.” Ignis leant down to whisper in Prompto’s ear, tucking stray locks of hair behind it and dropping a kiss on the side of his head. “I’ve never _been_ so proud.”

“It’s no…no wonder he wants to leave me behind…” Prompto muttered, pulling back and burying his face in the pillow, tears flowing freely now if the damp patch at the front of Ignis’ shirt was anything to go by. 

Ignis froze. He couldn’t tell him like this. It wasn’t fair. Not on Prompto or on himself.

“Nobody’s going to leave you behind, Prom.” His voice was steady in spite of the lie that he knew he was telling. He cursed himself for saying the words, for not having the strength to be honest. It was going to make it so much harder to tell him the truth when the time came.

He leant down so that his head lay beside Prompto’s on the pillow, their faces so close that their foreheads were touching, the salty tears that ran down his lover’s cheeks making tracks across his own lips. He swung his legs onto the bed and wrapped them around Prompto’s lower body, happily noting that Prompto was able to respond, his leg trembling with the effort as it curved around Ignis’, leaving their bodies fully intertwined. Ignis reached an arm around Prompto’s slim waist to pull him further towards him, relaxing into the embrace as he felt his lover tuck his head under his chin and snuggle in closer, pressing his ear against his chest, just above his heart.

“You promise, Iggy?” Prompto’s voice sounded so innocent, so childlike that all Ignis wanted to do was hold him tightly and never let you.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Ignis replied. “I’m not going going anywhere.” He choked back his own tears as he kissed the top of Prompto’s head. “I love you so much.” 

“I…I love you too…” Prompto shuffled backwards, tilting his head upwards and letting his lips drift over Ignis’, brushing against them with the most gentle of touches before pulling back slightly and moving one hand to his face. He seemed to hesitate before allowing a single quivering finger to trace the edge of the scar that surrounded his eye. “Is…is this okay? I just…I wanted to….”

“Yes, Prom. It’s okay.” Ignis smiled at Prompto’s touch, pausing for a few moments before reaching up to take his hand, pulling it down from where it rested against his skin, soft and smooth in contrast to the rough scar tissue. He guided it towards his mouth where he let it linger against his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn.

“Right- I’ve managed to persuade them to…” Gladio’s voice- loud and brash as he strode back into the room- cut through the serenity, and Ignis quickly let go of Prompto’s hand, sitting up and turning away to hide the rising heat in his cheeks. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, I…”

It was rare to hear Gladio lost for words and Ignis couldn’t help but smile in spite of his annoyance.

“It’s alright, Gladio,” he sighed as he helped Prompto to sit back up, plumping up the pillow to give his head more support. “We were just talking.”

“Well, I’m glad to see that the two of you are okay after all that. I know Iggy was worried.”

“Gladio. Wait…” Ignis tried to interrupt but Gladio wouldn’t stop for long enough to let him get the words out. 

“I have to admit,” he continued, completely ignoring the look of horror that Ignis knew was plastered all over his face. “I was worried about how you’d react too, Prom. I know it’s hard, but it’s the right decision. You’ll see.”

Ignis grimaced at the silent tension that fell across the room. He stared down at the floor, unable to meet Prompto’s eye. At that moment more than any other, he was grateful that he wasn’t able to see, that he could somehow avoid the hurt on his lover’s face, the tears that were no doubt filling his eyes as he realised that Ignis had lied to him.

“Oh…shit. Iggy, you didn’t tell him yet?”

“Tell me what?” Prompto voice was shaking as he spoke.

“My darling…” Ignis tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. They were trapped behind the lump in his throat, behind the tears that had been threatening to fall all day. He tried to grab for Prompto’s hand, his heart breaking when he felt his lover pull it roughly out of reach.

“No, Iggy. Tell me what?”

“I can’t…” Ignis’ voice cracked, tears spilling out from under his glasses. He didn’t lift his hand to brush them away as he normally would have done, no longer concerned about what the others thought of him. His only concern was for Prompto. “Gladio…I can’t. I won’t.”

“You have to, Iggy.” Gladio placed a hand on his shoulder again as he spoke, his own voice sad and unsure. “You _know_ you have to.”

“You’re…you’re going to go without me, aren’t you?” Prompto whispered. “You’re going to leave me here…” He wasn’t asking a question. He knew. He was just waiting for Ignis to tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry, Prom. We have to.” Ignis felt like a shard of glass was piercing his guts, his breath being choked from his body. He could feel his whole world shattering around him, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

“But…but you promised…”

“I know, my love. And I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was pretty angsty but, I promise, there is definitely light at the end of the tunnel.
> 
> I love these boys and love talking about them, so any comments and messages are very much appreciated! This fic has become my baby and means a lot to me so I hope people are still enjoying it.
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/) I'm nice, I promise c:


	8. Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto feels like he is drowning in his own misery, unable to deal with the fact that Iggy and the others are going to leave him behind. His attempts to prove that he is able to cope on his own, that he is strong enough to join them as they continue on their journey, only make him feel more helpless. But, as always, Ignis is there to help pull him through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and messages on the last chapter! Every single one has made me smile so much, and just motivates me to keep pushing forward with this despite the fact that life is more busy than ever at the moment!
> 
> No chapter next week since I'm away on holiday (though I may try to get one written anyway since I can't seem to stop thinking about these boys!)

Prompto lay there, face pressed firmly into his pillow in an attempt to block out the world around him. The material felt cold against his cheek, the dampness irritating his scar, making it sting and itch. He had an almost unbearable desire to reach up and scratch at it but he was scared to touch it, to feel the raised red line that stretched across his cheek, weaving its way down all the way from his eye to the corner of his lip. He hadn’t seen it yet but he knew it was ugly. He had seen Noct’s face the first time he had visited, eyes wide in shock as he took in Prompto’s appearance. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get that picture out of his head. 

Prompto clenched his fists by his sides, groaning as he felt his fingernails dig sharply into the palms of his hands, and rolled over onto his back, the itching beginning to fade as his cheek lost contact with the pillow. He had long since let out all the tears he had been holding inside and, despite the occasional loud sob still managing to escape his lips, his eyes were now completely absent of moisture. They were swollen, almost to the point that they were painful to open, and the skin around them felt stiff and starched. He closed them, jamming his eyelids shut to try to rid himself of the burning sensation. 

He was very aware of the voices outside the door, although his friends were talking so softly that, even as he strained to listen, he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it anyway. They were talking about him, he knew that much for sure. To start with, it had just been Ignis and Gladio, who had lingered in the doorway for much longer than they needed to after he had snapped at them to leave him alone, the concern on their faces making him want to scream and shout and cry more than he was already doing. He had thrown himself down onto the pillow, burying his face in it so he hadn’t had to look at them, hadn’t had to see the way they were looking at him. He didn’t want their pity.

After a while, he had heard the click of the door as it was gently pulled closed followed by low, angry voices, no doubt arguing in the way that he hated. Arguing about him. Noct had soon joined them, his voice more eager, more desperate sounding than the other two and, at that point, Prompto had tried to sit up, convinced that, at any moment, the door would swing open and Noct would burst through it to tell him that he had managed to change their minds, that they wouldn’t be leaving him behind after all. But it hadn’t happened, and Noct’s voice, too, quickly died down in volume until the only sound that reached Prompto’s ears was a continuous buzz in which not a single word was recognisable.

More secrets. Wasn’t that what had caused all of this in the first place? If they had just been honest with him from the start, maybe he would have been able to deal with things better. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so angry. He knew that he had over-reacted earlier and, when he really considered it, he knew that they couldn’t wait for him forever, that they were making the only sensible decision, but he had just been so upset, so overwhelmed at the thought that they were going to go on without him. That Ignis- _his Ignis_ \- was going to leave him…

He sniffed a few times, frustrated to find that his nose was stuffy and blocked- the way it always got after he had been crying. It was making it difficult to breathe but he forced down the panic that was rising in his chest, taking deep, slow breaths through his mouth. He licked his lips, uncomfortably rough and parched underneath the tip of his tongue as it swept over them, his throat so dry that he was unable to produce even enough saliva to moisten them. He needed water, and he needed it now.

“Iggy?” he croaked, the word sticking in the back of his throat. “Gladio? Noct?

Prompto cleared his throat before trying again, desperate now in his attempt to make himself heard.

“Iggy? Please…” 

He lay there completely still for a few moments, listening in hope that the door would creak open and one of his friends would rush to his side.

“Please come, please come, please come,” he whispered to himself, tears once again pricking at the corners of his eyes as he repeated the phrase over and over, realising how alone he was. He felt the loneliness like a vice on his heart, squeezing it with just enough pressure to be a constant, nagging pain. It was killing him a little more every day, taking what was once his inner light and replacing it with a darkness that seemed to overshadow every moment. It had become what fuelled his nightmares, the reason that he found himself waking up struggling to breathe. Even when his friends were by his side, when Ignis was holding his hand and stroking his hair, he felt alone. They could never truly understand how he was feeling, the thoughts that were a constant torment. He had to deal with them alone, and he was struggling. “Please…Please…” He let out a final muffled whimper as he opened his eyes to reveal a still-empty room. A lone tear traced silently down his cheek. Nobody could hear him. Nobody was coming. 

He pushed himself up, his arms trembling underneath his weight, hands grasping helplessly at the bed sheets as he somehow managed to manoeuvre himself into a seated position. He leant his head back, forgetting about the stitches in his scalp, gasping in pain as the still-healing wound rubbed roughly against the wall behind the bed. His head flopped forwards so that his chin rested on his chest, his muscles still too weak to hold it up without support. He was breathing hard, the effort of having to sit up almost too much for his body. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his skin clammy, his cheeks warm and flushed. He sighed in frustration. It shouldn’t take this much effort for a fit and healthy twenty-year-old to simply sit up in bed. Although he supposed he wasn’t exactly fit and healthy any more. He was broken. And he wasn’t sure if he could be fixed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a half-full glass of water- left over from the doctor’s morning visit- sitting on the table next to his bed, only a few inches from where his hand lay still intertwined with the bed sheets. If he could only reach out and grab it, he’d be able to finally quench his thirst. The burning sensation in his throat grew more and more as he stared at it longingly, craving the feel of the cool glass rim against his dry, cracked lips. 

He took a deep breath, anger suddenly building in his stomach, taking the place of the despair that had been sitting there since his earlier conversation with Ignis and Gladio. They thought he couldn’t do anything on his own, that he was completely useless. But he didn’t need them for this. He’d show them that he would be absolutely fine without them.

Prompto’s muscles shivered and trembled as he lifted his arm but, nevertheless, seemed to obey his brain’s instructions for once. His arm felt so heavy, like it was made out of lead, but he persevered despite the shooting pains that were travelling all the way from his fingertips to his shoulder.

“You can do this, Prompto. You don’t need them,” he murmured to himself as his hand closed around the glass, fingers twitching as he attempted to tighten his grip on the smooth, slippery surface. “It’s just a glass of water. It isn’t hard. Look, you can do this fine on your own. You _are_ doing it fine on your own.” He slid his hand, still closed tightly around the glass, across the table until it reached the edge, pausing for a few seconds to compose himself, adjusting his fingers slightly to make it easier to lift. 

The glass was halfway to his mouth when his body finally gave up on him. Muscles spasming and hand quivering violently, it slipped from his tenuous grasp before Prompto even realised what was happening, tumbling to the floor where it smashed loudly, shards of glass skating across the pool of water that now glistened against the luminous lights of the hospital room.

“Fuck.” He snatched his arm quickly away from where it hung in the air and cradled it to his chest to try to ease some of the burning ache that now saturated his trembling muscles.

“Shit, Prom. Are you okay?” The door swung open and Noct rushed across the room towards the bed, in so much of a hurry to reach his friend that he almost slipped on the puddle of water that had pooled on the floor. “What’s wrong with your arm?” He seized hold of Prompto’s arm and tried to prise it away from his chest, causing him to cry out with a mixture of pain and anger. “Let me see, Prom. I’m trying to help. Please…”

“What the fuck…?” Gladio marched behind Noct, voice trailing off as he caught a glimpse of Prompto, hunched over in the bed, face streaked with tears. 

“Prompto, my love? Are you hurt?” Ignis’ voice, filled with unsettled apprehension, echoed across the room as he navigated slowly across it, cane in hand as he took uncertain steps towards the bed.

“Careful, Iggy.” Gladio turned to him and took his arm fondly to hold him back. He glanced over towards the bed. “Floor’s wet,” he murmured. “Don’t want you to slip.”

“Thank you, Gladio…”

“Prom looks okay though,” he breathed almost under his breath, words meant only for Ignis’ hearing. “Don’t worry, Iggy. I’ll check him over.”

Gladio led Ignis to his usual chair before turning to look at Prompto.

“Kid- you gotta talk to me. Your arm hurts?” He held Prompto’s shaking arm gently, turning it over in his hands and scanning every inch of pale, freckled skin for any sign of injury. “Looks okay to me.”

Prompto nodded briefly, his blinking lashes already heavy with tears. “I’m…I’m not injured. It…it just aches…I…I don’t know how to stop the shaking.”

He followed the path of Gladio’s eyes, which were now glancing down at the water on the floor. Gently letting go of Prompto’s arm, he lowered it gently onto the bed before crouching down beside him. He raised one eyebrow questioningly as he stared up at Prompto, a larger fragment of glass tentatively clasped between his thumb and forefinger. “Where’d this come from, Blondie?”

Prompto looked down, biting his lip as he tried to think of the right words, unable to meet Gladio’s eye. “I was…I needed some water…” he murmured softly, the words almost inaudible.

“What d’you say, Prom? You gotta speak slowly, remember?” Gladio put the glass down and perched on the side of the bed, placing his hand on Prompto’s leg with such tenderness that he thought he might start crying again. “I know you hate me for saying that but you gotta help me. I need to understand what you’re saying so I can help.”

“Was thirsty…” His lower lip was trembling as he spoke, and he bit into it as he paused in an attempt to steady it. He knew that his speech was still difficult to understand sometimes, especially when he was upset, but he hated being reminded of it. He peered around, first at Noct, then at Iggy and finally back to Gladio. He quickly looked back down at the bed, nervously fidgeting with the bedsheets as he thought about what to say next, building the sentence in his mind before he attempted to form the words with his mouth. He felt sick to his stomach. He was so pathetic, and- judging by the pitiful expressions on their faces as they stared at him- his friends thought so too.

“You…Nobody was here…I thought…I thought…” A wail escaped his mouth as he tried, unsuccessfully, to organise his confused thoughts into a coherent sentence, and he felt himself collapse forward helplessly into Gladio, chest heaving as he wept unceasingly. Gladio wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer, hands firmly resting against his back as he held him silently, rocking him slowly from side to side as his howls of distress worsened. The pain came in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for recovering breaths, before hurling himself straight back into the outstretched arms of his grief.

“It’s okay, Blondie,” Gladio murmured into his ear as he continued to choke back his tears. “It’s all gonna be okay…”

********

It took a while for the tears to finally dissipate, leaving him feeling exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open. Gladio held him tightly the whole time while Ignis sat beside him squeezing his hand, occasionally lifting it to allow his lips to brush across his knuckles in a reassuring kiss.

“Feeling a bit better now, Blondie?”

Prompto pulled back and nodded, releasing his grip on Gladio’s jacket so that he was able to get up from where he still sat on the edge of the bed and cross the room to the sink. The sound of running water immediately made Prompto remember how thirsty he was, and he was grateful when Gladio returned with a new glass, raising it to his lips and tipping it gently, allowing him to savour each cold, sweet drop of water as it ran down his parched throat.

“Still thirsty? I can go get you a refill if you want?”

Prompto nodded again, dragging his arm across his eyes to wipe away the remaining tears and sniffing a few times before attempting a small smile. 

“Why didn’t you just call for one of us if you needed something?” Noct was leaning against the end of the bed, his forehead wrinkled in genuine confusion as he met Prompto’s eyes. 

“You…you were busy. You were fighting…” Prompto didn’t recognise his own voice as he spoke, cracked and hoarse as he forced the words out of his dry throat. His fingers traced across the band that he always wore around his wrist, picking awkwardly at it as he cleared his throat. “You…you didn’t hear me…” he muttered, flicking the edge of the wristband so that it pinged back painfully against the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist, the stinging sensation a welcome distraction from the conversation.

“We weren’t fighting, Prom,” Gladio soothed as he returned with another glass of water, this time wrapping Prompto’s own hands around it underneath his own, the coolness a stark contrast to the warmth of his sweaty palms, and helping him to lift it to his mouth. “There you go, Blondie. You’ve got this.” He smiled again, releasing his hands but keeping them nearby, reading to pounce at any second if the glass began to slip. “I’m not gonna let you drop it. I’m right here.” 

Prompto took smaller sips this time, allowing the water to swirl around his mouth before he swallowed it, pressing his lips together so that they could absorb some of the moisture. 

“You did good, Prom.” Gladio reached up to take the now-empty glass from his hands, placing it back on the table next to the bed. “Better?”

“Yes…thanks Gladdy.”

He leant back and closed his eyes, surprised to feel a cool, damp cloth being pressed to his brow and dabbed gently over his eyes, removing the remaining salty tear tracks and alleviating some of the uncomfortable tightness in his dry skin. 

“We were just trying to figure everything out,” Gladio continued, running the cloth over his hair so that the blonde bangs he had felt plastered to his forehead were swept away from his face. “We just want you to be okay, that’s all.”

“I’m…I’m s…s…sorry…” he stammered, forcing his eyes open and blinking up at Gladio.

“There is nothing at all to be sorry for, my darling.” Ignis reached across the bed and rested his hand on his arm, stroking his fingers up and down it gently. “I was worried about you.” He paused, removing his hand for a moment to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “We were all worried about you.”

“It’s just…” Prompto bit his lip and resumed fiddling with his wristband.

“Just what?” Gladio’s hand closed tightly around his wrist as he spoke, the question quiet- an invitation to answer rather than a command.

“I’m so…so fucking ashamed…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Gladio stood up and turned away, pacing across the room as he did when he was frustrated. His voice was louder this time, the sudden change in volume causing Prompto to jump, his palms becoming sweaty and the trembling in his hands returning. Gladio’s words laced with anger, though Prompto couldn’t tell if the anger was aimed at him or merely at the situation they were in.

“Hush, Gladio.” Ignis reached up clasp the side of Prompto’s face, his thumb running circles across his cheek as he traced the lines of his freckles from memory. “You haven’t said anything wrong, my darling.”

“Shit,” Gladio muttered, running his hand through his hair as he turned back to look at Prompto. “Nobody’s angry at you, Blondie.” He sighed, rubbing his hands across his face. “But you shouldn’t talk like that. You shouldn’t ever have to feel ashamed.”

“Look at me!” Prompto’s voice was shaking but he didn’t care.

“Prom…” Ignis began, squeezing Prompto’s knee underneath the bed sheets.

“No, Iggy. Seriously. I’m a mess. I…I can’t even lift a glass of water. I still can’t talk properly a lot of the time. I’m probably…I’m probably never gonna be able to walk again…not…not without help at least.” He swallowed, taking a deep breath as he forced back tears. He’d been thinking about it for a while- and he knew that the others had too- but that didn’t make saying the words out loud any less painful. “I…I can’t do anything. And you guys…you’re gonna leave me here. I don’t think…I don’t know how to do this without you… I’m not sure I can…”

“Don’t say things like that!” Noct had been standing silently at the end of the bed the whole time, lips set in a thin, straight line, expression almost unreadable had it not been for his eyes, which glistened with tears. He looked so tired, the black circles underneath his eyes betraying how little sleep he was getting. “You _can_ , Prom. You are doing so well. Even the doctors said so…”

Prompto screwed his eyes shut, unable to bear the hurt that flashed across his best friend’s face. He was tired of pretending that everything was going to be okay. He couldn’t do it anymore, not even for Noct’s sake. He just didn’t have the energy.

“You’re expecting too much of yourself, Blondie.” Gladio cleared his throat before speaking again. “You’re expecting recovery to be quick, but it’s gonna take time. You can’t rush these things.”

“Gladio’s right, my darling.” Ignis’ voice, soft and soothing as always, drifted into his thoughts, but he didn’t open his eyes. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about needing help for a little while.”

“Please…please don’t leave me…” The words were almost lost, eaten up by the silence, escaping his lips before he could stop them. He peered up at Ignis, beautiful green eyes- always so open, so free of secrets- hidden behind the dark lenses of his glasses. Without being able to see past them, Prompto had no way of knowing what his lover was thinking, how he was feeling. The rest of his face, as always, betrayed no hint of emotion, but Prompto knew that if he could just get a glimpse of what was going on behind those glasses he would know the truth. He would be able to see Ignis’ true feelings.

“We have to, my love.” The words were spoken gently, almost whispered, as if Ignis was afraid that he would break down again. A hand moved to Prompto’s shoulder and, despite the usual reassuring warmth, there was something wrong. Ignis’ hand was shaking, fingertips trembling as they gripped more tightly. “You know that we have to.”

Prompto opened his mouth to speak, ready to argue his case, when he heard something catch in Ignis’ voice that made him pause. Prompto took in the way his lower lip shook slightly as he turned his head away, the clammy palms as they stroked against his shoulder, the unsteady breathing as he breathed just a little more deeply than usual. Everything about him was begging Prompto not to continue, not to make this any harder than it already was. Ignis was struggling, and Prompto hadn’t even realised it. He swallowed his thoughts, reaching up a hand of his own and resting it lightly on top of Ignis’. How could he have been so selfish? He’d only been thinking about himself, completely oblivious to how the others were feeling. How Ignis was feeling. Looking around, taking in the faces of his friends, seeing them properly for the first time, he realised that he wasn’t the only one finding this difficult. They were all hurting…

“Prom- you’re my best friend.” Noct’s voice was shaking too as he clambered onto the bed, sliding in next to him and wrapping an arm around him. “You know I wouldn’t have agreed to this if there was any other option. You _know_ that, right?” He held Prompto’s gaze for longer than he needed to, his whole face showing his desperation.

“I…I know…”

“We won’t be gone for long, my love.” Ignis looked down at him sadly, his lips forced unwillingly into a smile that didn’t want to last. Prompto sniffed, unable to return the smile. He didn’t want to think about being apart from Ignis, about how he would even begin to stay strong without his constant love and support but he knew he had to try. He had to be brave. He couldn’t help his friends in the way he wanted to but, at the very least, he could make this part easier. “And I’ll be in touch every day, I promise.”

A cool hand brushed against his forehead followed by soft lips pressing against his own. He leant in, his emotions no longer fuelled by the heat and anger of earlier, but by desire and love. He wanted to remember this moment: the gentle caress of his lover’s hand against the side of his face, the warmth of his lips as they connected with his own, the spark of electricity that seemed to pass between them as they pressed their foreheads together, so close that their breaths mingled in the air in front of them. He wanted to capture the moment like one of his photographs and store it forever so that it was always there for him to look back on. 

Gladio cleared his throat loudly and Prompto pulled away in surprise, his cheeks burning as he turned to face him. He’d been so lost in the moment that he’d forgotten that Noct and Gladio were still there. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Noct, a single raised eyebrow only emphasising his smirk, and he found himself having to suppress a giggle as he imagined what his best friend must be thinking.

“Sorry, I…” he choked out, embarrassed laughter welling up inside him.

“Noct- we really should go and start getting everything together.” Gladio interrupted, acting as if Prompto hadn’t even spoken. “We’ve only got a couple of days before we need to leave and we gotta stock up on potions and stuff before then.”

“But I want to stay with…” Noct whined. It made Prompto smile to see Noct behaving no differently to when they were teenagers, his pout and sullen expression making him look less like a king than ever. He knew how much it frustrated Gladio when Noct acted like this but, secretly, it made Prompto happy to see that his friend hadn’t changed, that, in spite of everything, he was still the same person he always had been.

“Noct!” Gladio shot him a pointed look, sighing in frustration as Noct shrugged his shoulders questioningly. “Seriously?!” He raised his eyebrows before glancing across at the bed, where Ignis’ hand still lay on top of Prompto’s, their fingers intertwined. Noct’s eyes followed, widening as the realisation of what Gladio was trying to do suddenly dawned on him.

“Ooooh…” He nodded, flashing a quick grin to show he understood. “Yeah, sure. Prom, I’ll be back later, okay?”

“Promise?” 

“‘Course! You’re gonna be sick of the sight of me over the new few days!”

“How can I help, Gladio?” Ignis let go of Prompto’s hand, patting it affectionately as he got to his feet. He felt around for his cane, wrapping his fingers around it as he turned to look at Gladio, awaiting instructions for what to do next.

“No, Iggy- you should stay here.” Gladio clasped Ignis on the shoulder, removing the cane from his hand and balancing it against the bed before guiding him back down into the chair. “Keep Blondie company for a while.”

“Whatever you think best.” 

Prompto smiled as Gladio roughly grabbed Noct’s arm and led him towards the door, murmuring something in his ear as they went. Prompto couldn’t hear what was said but, at Noct’s giggle, could guess that it was about him and Ignis 'needing some alone time’. He was grateful that Gladio understood what he needed. Earlier, he’d got so angry, so upset with Ignis, and had said so many hurtful things that he hadn’t meant. He wished more than anything that he could take them back, that he could go back in time and erase that morning’s conversation. But he knew it wasn’t possible. All he could do now was make the most of the next couple of days. 

He leant forwards, running his forefinger around the soft edges of Ignis’ jaw, the sudden touch making Ignis’ gasp in surprise. 

“What are you doing, my darling?” he murmured, reaching up to run a single finger down Prompto’s arm, the sensation causing him to shiver as his hairs stood on end. Ignis’ touch was like electricity. It made him come alive.

“I’m just…just…” Prompto stopped, unable to explain. He continued his exploration, tracing the raised, rough border of the scar that ran down onto his cheek, brushing silky strands of hair away from his forehead, softly stroking the smooth skin on the inside of his ear. His fingers lingered over Ignis’ lips, the vibrations as he began to speak making his fingertips tingle. 

“Memorising my face?” Ignis questioned, a smile forming beneath Prompto’s hand. He followed the line of his lover’s mouth as it curved upwards, reminding himself of the near perfect symmetry of his cheekbones, passing his fingers along each familiar curve, over every blemish- each one only adding to Ignis’ beauty.

“No…I…I…” Again he found himself lost for words, but he pushed back the frustration this time, not wanting to ruin such a perfect moment of intimacy. 

Prompto pressed a kiss to Ignis’ cheek, his lips brushing gently across the lower edge of the scar. Why would he need to memorise his lover’s face when he already knew every inch of it as well as he knew his own? He thought of the hundreds of pictures he had taken of Ignis across the years they had known each other, many of the earlier ones taken secretly from a distance before he had even managed to pluck up the courage to speak to him. More recently, he had managed to persuade Ignis to let him take some more personal ones, reminders of their more intimate moments together. Every single one of these was still stored on his camera, ready for him to look back on at any moment. But there was no photograph in the world that could capture this, that could truly store the essence of their relationship, the love they felt for each other. Not that he needed a photograph when the memory was so solidly imprinted on his heart. And besides- there were some things that you just didn’t forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I write, the more emotional I can feel myself getting! This is a tough write but I guess I brought it on myself.
> 
> As always, any feedback is very much appreciated c:
> 
>  
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/) I'm nice, I promise c:


	9. Noct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noct tries to fight past his exhaustion whilst, at the same time, fixing things between him and Gladio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter has taken a while- I've had word block for the last few weeks and a complete loss of confidence so this was a real struggle to write! In the end, it got so long that I had to split it in two which means that the next chapter is part written already so should be posted fairly quickly.
> 
> Thanks, as always, for the lovely comments and support. It's been the only thing that has kept me pushing through the block to get this written.

Noct was completely caught up in his own thoughts as he focused all his efforts into silencing the internal battle that had been going on for the past few days: one part of him knew he had to continue as normal, to follow through with the plan they had all- Prompto included- agreed on, but the other part, the part that seemed to be winning most of the time, wanted nothing more than to break down and cry. It was exhausting, fighting against his own indecision, and he knew he had to escape from it somehow if he wanted to make it through the rest of the day without completely falling apart. He was incredibly grateful that, even in the absence of any conscious instruction, his mind had managed to understand what he needed, coming up with what seemed to be an effective coping strategy. It had numbed his thoughts and worries, making the world around him seem softer and far less threatening than he knew it to be. 

As he trailed around after Gladio, he felt detached, separated from his surroundings as if there was an invisible barrier between himself and the rest of the world. It was like looking through a smudged and slightly dirty window- he could still see what was going on, was still completely aware and in control, but things weren’t clear. The world seemed duller, as if all the sounds and sights and colours had been muted. Under other circumstances, it would have been confusing- terrifying, even. But the only feeling Noct felt was relief. Being able to feel this calm and peaceful in spite of everything that was happening was making things a great deal easier to cope with, that was for sure.

Gladio was helping too, though Noct was sure he wasn’t aware of it. Noct had been kept busy for the past two days, visiting store after store in search of the supplies they needed to move forward with their journey. Organised as ever, Gladio had made a long list of jobs that needed to be done before they could leave Altissia, and the two of them made polite small talk as they slowly ticked the items off one at a time. Although things had improved slightly between them, Noct was very aware of the awkwardness that still hung in the air and, despite his best efforts, the flow of conversation was stilted and punctuated by long, unsettling pauses, the silences seemingly filled by unspoken conflict as their faces betrayed their true feelings for one another. 

“Nearly done now.” The sound of Gladio’s voice cut through one of those silences, the words sounding distant, as if he was standing on the other side of the street rather than right there beside him. “Just a couple more things to sort out, then I think we’re all set.” 

“Yeah…” Noct nodded in reply, sighing softly as his shoulders slumped forwards, the thought of having to keep dragging his body around for even a little while longer almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

“Good to hear you’re as enthusiastic as ever!” Gladio turned to face him, his brow furrowed into a frown as he looked him up and down, eyes narrowing in annoyance as he heard Noct let out another loud sigh. “Seriously, I know you’re not happy about this but you could at least attempt to make an effort.”

Noct knew that Gladio was still angry and upset over the way he’d dealt with things. Or, more accurately, the way he’d _refused_ to deal with things. He didn’t blame him. He, more than anyone, was frustrated in himself, but he knew that it was no good staying angry for ever. He was determined now to do what was expected of him, to show Gladio that he could be the king everybody needed. On several occasions, he had opened his mouth with the intention of saying something, of offering an apology, of attempting to, somehow, fix their friendship. But he could never quite find the words to truly express what he wanted to say.

“Sorry,” he muttered, straightening up and attempting a small smile.

“Look…”. Gladio’s expression softened. “I know it’s tough. If it makes you feel any better, I’m not exactly happy about leaving Blondie here alone either. But we don’t have any other choice. If it was up to me…” His voice trailed off and he broke eye contact, clearing his throat as he looked down at the ground.

“If it was up to you what?” Noct snapped, his words coming out much harsher than he had intended. The truth was, he was more shocked at Gladio’s hesitation than irritated by it. He was usually so straightforward, never one to hold back what he was thinking even if it meant contradicting Noct’s own decisions.

“It doesn’t matter.” Gladio raised his head again, forcing his face to assume a neutral expression that was impossible to read. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that the right choice isn’t always the easiest one.”

“Iggy tell you to say that?” He spat the words out before he could stop himself, gritting his teeth to prevent the rest of the angry tirade that he could feel building up inside him. He was like a ticking time bomb these days. There was so much rage inside him and he was barely able to keep it from exploding out. He felt like it was just sitting there, waiting for somebody to flip a switch so that it could break through its shell and decimate those around it. And he knew that, when that happened, he would be powerless to stop it- however much he wanted to. 

He turned away so that he didn’t have to look at Gladio. He knew that he was just trying to help, that it was his way of making him see that he was doing the right thing, but it didn’t help placate the anger that knotted in the pit of his stomach. They were just words. Empty and meaningless. Nothing could help him come to terms with the reality of leaving his best friend to face his recovery on his own. He had made that decision, and he would have to deal with it in his own way. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with it…

“They’re my father’s words actually. Something he told me a long time ago.” The sound of Gladio’s voice cracking caused Noct to spin back round and catch his eye, surprised to see his lips twisted into a small, sad smile. “I got frustrated too, the first time he said them to me. Actually…” Gladio chuckled at the memory, “I got so fucking angry that I stormed out of the house, couldn’t speak to him for the rest of the day. But now…now I understand what he meant, and I honestly believe he was right.”

“I want to believe it too. It’s just…this is harder than I thought it would be…” Seeing Gladio letting his guard down, exposing a vulnerability that Noct had seen only once or twice in his entire life, caused any anger to dissipate, leaving behind an empty loneliness that made him feel sick.

“Yeah. It is.” Gladio swung an arm round his shoulder and squeezed tightly. “But I want you to know how proud of you for doing this. I know your father would be proud too.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do. I know I’ve been pissed at you lately. I guess…” Gladio swallowed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I guess I sort of blamed you for everything. For Luna. For Iggy and Prom. And then for the fact you weren’t around to deal with the aftermath, for leaving it up to me to sort things out while you recovered. I…”

“Gladio, it’s cool. Really. You don’t need to explain.”

“I know I don’t, but I want to.” Gladio smiled, a sadness in his eyes that broke Noct’s heart. He removed his arm from where it remained draped loosely over Noct’s shoulders and gripped both forearms, pulling gently as he turned him so that they were eye to eye. “I just care, that’s all. And when you woke up, and you were just so distant and in denial about everything, I was so angry at you. I thought _‘how dare he act like this when they’ve given so much to help him’_.”

“You’re right, though. I didn’t deal with things well.” Noct cleared his throat, a lump forming hat was making it difficult for him to get the words out. He wasn’t sure he was ready to have this conversation, if he’d be able to hold himself together long enough to explain what was going on inside his head, but Gladio opened up like this so rarely that if they didn’t talk now he didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance. “I guess I just didn’t know what to do. I felt really fucking guilty, Gladio- I still do, to be honest- and the only way I could cope with it all was to pretend it wasn’t happening.”

“Yeah…I get that now.” Gladio nodded, his eyes glistening with tears. He brushed the back of his hand quickly across his face to avoid them spilling out before continuing. “And honestly? I don’t think I was even angry at you. I was just so frustrated about everything that had happened, and I was looking for someone to blame. Not just for Leviathan for…for everything. It wasn’t fair and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Noct forced a smile. “Me too. And I promise. I’m trying. I know you think I’m not but I really am. This is…it’s the best I can manage right now.

“I know. You’re doing good, kid. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re shaping up to be a pretty good king after all.”

Usually, Noct would have disregarded the words, letting them go without a second thought and, for a moment, he was tempted to shrug them off, convinced that they were merely another attempt to cheer him up, to motivate him into doing what was needed. But Gladio’s voice sounded genuine and there was an earnest truthfulness behind his eyes as they bore into Noct’s, almost as if they were pleading with him to believe what he was saying. Despite his doubts, Noct knew that Gladio only ever spoke the truth so, if he said he was doing a good job, it had to be the case, even if he was unable to see it himself at the moment. 

“Thanks. That…it means a lot actually…”

Noct somehow managed to choke out the words, very aware of the fact that his lower lip was trembling. He bit into it, suddenly overcome with emotion, taking a deep breath as he pushed his tears back down inside. More than ever now he wanted to prove that he was strong, that Gladio was right to believe in him.

He paused. Now that he’d stopped rushing around and allowed himself to relax a little, he realised how exhausted he was, how his legs were struggling to hold him up, the muscles quivering under the weight of the rest of his body. His eyelids were heavy and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, even just for a couple of hours. But, in spite of Gladio’s kind words (or maybe because of them) he didn’t dare complain, scared that if Gladio knew how fragile and broken he was he would change his mind. The truth of the matter was that, much as he hated to admit it, the battle with Leviathan had taken more out of him than he’d initially realised. The physical exertion alone had been enough to cause his body to shut down for a couple of days and, coupled with the guilt he’d been harbouring over losing Luna, over his friends’ injuries, it had become too much for him. 

“Hey, you look pretty tired.” Gladio frowned in concern, tightening his grip on his arms as if he was afraid he’d collapse any minute. “Why don’t you wait here and I’ll go and grab the last few things. Sound good?” 

“Yeah. I guess…yeah, that would be great.”

Noct found himself unable to object, gratefully lowering himself onto the bench that Gladio was gesturing towards and leaning forwards to rest his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to ignore the ache that spread through his body, causing every muscle to burn and tremble. He stretched his arms above his head, flinching as a sharp pain shot down the entire length of his spine and into his right leg. It had been a while since he had felt such an intense ache in his back. He couldn’t actually remember the last time it had gotten this bad- the old injury only troubled him these days when he really pushed his body too far- but he knew that it was a warning, his body’s way of telling him that he’d overdone it and he desperately needed to take some time out.

“Shouldn’t take long. You rest a while. Need you at full strength for our journey.”

“I won’t let you down.” Noct lifted his head, the muscles at the base of his neck spasming as they fought to hold it up. He smiled reassuringly at Gladio, attempting to keep his voice light and cheerful. The last thing he wanted now was to cause anybody to worry about him, not when there were so many other things- more important things- to be thinking about. And anyway, he was just tired. Nothing a good sleep wouldn’t fix.

“Never doubted it.” Gladio clapped him on the back, the increased pressure on his spine causing the pain to intensify, the toes of his right foot curling up and locking into place as they did when his back got really bad. Noct gritted his teeth and held back a groan. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

“Mmm.” He closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward again so that it rested against his chest. “I think I’ll just rest my eyes for a little while.” 

He listened to Gladio’s footsteps as they faded away and then let the busy hustle and bustle of the marketplace wash over him as he tried to zone out again. If he could just get some rest, even for half an hour, he knew that everything would be so much better…

********

When he next opened his eyes, he felt completely disorientated and, for a moment, wasn’t sure where he was or what had happened. He stretched his arms and legs out as he twisted onto his side, his awareness drawn to the soft sheets that cushioned his aching body and the plumpness of the pillow that his head sank into. He was in his hotel room, but how had he got there? He remembered the marketplace. Waiting for Gladio to return. But then what had happened? He shook his head, the memories of the day still hazy in his half-awake state. He remembered how exhausted he had felt, so it made sense that he had fallen asleep. But why hadn’t Gladio just woken him up? He pushed himself up in the bed and was about to get up when he heard voices outside the door.

“Worried about him….wouldn’t wake up….had to carry him here….”

Noct frowned. Gladio was speaking quietly, presumably trying not to wake him, but he was able to make out enough of the conversation between him and Ignis to understand what had happened. He slipped out from underneath the covers, shivering as his feet hit the cold tiles of the floor. He stood up gingerly, the memories of the pain he had felt earlier flooding back to him. His back was still sore but, he was glad to note, it was now no more than a vague annoyance- nothing like the agony that had been threatening to overwhelm him earlier that afternoon. 

He shuffled over to the door, moving as slowly as possible to avoid aggravating the remaining pain in his back. He had every intention of going straight through into the next room- of thanking Gladio for his help in getting him back to the hotel, apologising for not waking up, reassuring him that everything was fine but, when he reached the door, he stopped in his tracks. His friends’ voices were both raised, as if they were having a heated debate about something. He pushed the door open a crack and listened intently. If what they were discussing had anything to do with him, he had a right to know. 

“I don’t know Iggy…” Gladio sounded tired, his voice trailing off as though he was already resigned to losing this argument, whatever it was about. 

“What are you talking about?” Ignis spat out the question, his voice sounding uncharacteristically harsh and loud in contrast to Gladio’s hushed tones. “We’ve discussed this already. On more than one occasion, I seem to recall.”

“I know but it still concerns me. I honestly think it would be the best thing.”

Noct still couldn’t tell what exactly his two friends were talking about but he knew by the earnest tone of their voices that it was something important. He sighed underneath his breath as he pressed his ear to the door, wishing that he’d woken up a few moments earlier and caught the beginning of the conversation. 

“If I thought it was really Prompto that you were worried about it, I might be more open to the idea. As it is, I’m not convinced.”

“Who else would I be worried about?”

“Gladio- you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Noct could picture the pointed stare that Ignis was giving Gladio at that very moment, the look that he gave someone whenever he thought they were trying to pull the wool over his eyes. Noct knew it well, since it was usually reserved for him! “And you should also know by now that I don’t need you to protect me.”

“It’s Blondie I’m trying to protect, Iggy.”

So this was about Prompto? How was he trying to protect him? And what did Ignis mean about him not needing Gladio’s protection? Noct could feel the still-lingering knot in his stomach tighten and clench again as he tried to make sense of his friends’ conversation. He didn’t understand what was going on but something about it was making him feel very uneasy. 

“Prompto is perfectly capable of looking after himself for a few weeks. So am I, for that matter.”

“I know…”

Gladio’s words trailed off again, leaving only silence in their wake. All Noct could hear was the pounding of his heart in his chest, thudding against his rib cage with such force that he was sure Gladio and Ignis must have heard it through the wall. The tension that hung in the air was unbearable and Noct found himself holding his breath, wishing that he was able to see the unspoken conversation that was undoubtedly passing between his two friends.

“You’ve been doing it since we were children.” When Ignis spoke again his voice was more subdued, but the anger that laced his words was more evident than ever. “Have I still not done enough to prove that I am able to look after myself?”

“Of course, but…”

“I may be blind but, I assure you, I can still be of use.” Ignis cut Gladio off, determined to win what was clearly an old argument- one that was continuing to resurface in spite of Ignis’ best efforts to end it. “If you’re going to do this, you’re going to need all the help you can get.”

There was the silence again, more uncomfortable now than ever before. From behind the door, Noct felt his eyes stinging as they began to brim with tears, and he blinked them back, taking several deep breaths to calm himself down. Ignis and Gladio rarely argued but, when they did, Noct hated it, and not just because it upset him more than he would ever admit to see his friends get angry at one another. He hated it because if Ignis, who could always be relied upon to think things through calmly and logically, was letting his emotions control him, it meant things had become really serious.

“Gladio. Look at me.” Ignis paused, his breaths shaky and raspy as though he was trying to hold back tears. “I promise, if it gets to the point where my lack of vision is too much of an inconvenience or, worse, if it starts putting you and Noct in danger, I will bow out. But I beg you to let me try.”

Noct clenched his fists, his nails digging in to the palms of his hands. He couldn’t bear to listen any longer. Wiping his face to brush away a stray tear, he gritted his teeth. It was obvious that Gladio and Ignis had been having a private conversation, one they definitely wouldn’t have wanted him to hear, so there was no way he was planning on letting them know that he had been eavesdropping. That would possibly be the only thing that could make this worse than it already was. He took a deep breath to compose himself before swinging open the door, deliberately forcing a loud yawn as he emerged into the room. It had the desired effect, Gladio tearing his eyes away from Ignis as they both glanced in his direction. 

“Sleeping beauty awakens at last!” As Gladio grinned, Noct couldn’t help but notice that the smile didn’t quite reach his red-rimmed eyes- the only indication that anything untoward had happened.

“Good evening, Noct.” Ignis snapped straight back to his usual calm, measured self, nothing about his demeanour expressing even the slightest hint of the emotion that Noct had heard only minutes earlier.

If his two friends weren’t going to admit what had been going on, then Noct sure as hell wasn’t going to mention anything. 

“Hey,” he murmured, stretching his arms above his head as he attempted to keep up the pretence that he’d just woken up.

“Feeling better?” Ignis asked, turning to face Noct’s direction. “Gladio tells me that you were rather tired earlier. You must tell us when things get too much for you.”

“I know. Sorry…” He felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment at the thought of Gladio having to carry him back to the hotel, exhaustion having overwhelmed him to the point that he couldn’t even wake up. He thought about how worried they both must have been- all because he had been too proud to admit how tired he was. “I will next time, I promise.” He saw Ignis nod in approval and cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject. “Thought I’d go visit Prom.”

“Good idea- it’ll give me and Gladio chance to get everything in order here.”

Noct didn’t miss the look Ignis shot Gladio, the glare as piercing as ever, even from behind his dark glasses. A look that clearly said, _‘we’re not done here’_. He quickly averted his eyes, biting his lip to stop himself from saying something to make the situation worse. He seemed to be making a habit of doing that recently…

“Why don’t you see if you can get him outside for a while.” Gladio smiled genuinely this time, grabbing Noct’s jacket from where it hung on the back of a chair and tossing it across the room for him to catch. “It’s pretty warm out this evening and Blondie’s not had any fresh air for weeks. It’ll be good for him to get out.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’ll do that.” 

He felt the tightness in his stomach unravel slightly at the thought of seeing his best friend. Talking to Prompto would cheer him up as it always did. Then, when he got back to the hotel, he would be able to muster the strength to talk to Ignis, figure out what was going on between him and Gladio. And then, maybe, they could work together to fix it. His friends couldn’t stay angry at each other forever. They had already been through so much together. There was no way he was going to let things fall apart now. There had to be a way to make things better. He just needed to find it…

********

By the time he’d helped Prompto into his wheelchair and got him outside, the sun was already beginning to set, the remaining glimmers of light glittering like diamonds as they reflected off the water.

“So beautiful,” Prompto murmured under his breath, eyes sparkling as he tore his eyes briefly away from the river to glance at Noct. “Thanks. I think I needed this.” He refocused his gaze on the sunset, his cheeks flushed pink in the cool evening breeze. 

“No problem, Prom,” Noct laughed. He’d forgotten how easy it was to make his best friend happy. Prompto was the only person he knew who was content to just sit outside in silence and admire the scenery, usually with his camera in tow, ever ready to capture ‘the perfect shot’.

“I just wish I could take a picture of this…”

“You’ll be able to soon though.” Noct saw the a hint of sadness flash across Prompto’s eyes, the violet irises momentarily losing their twinkle. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll have to take loads of pictures of Cape Caem to show us when we get back!” 

“You think I’ll be able to?” The hopeful desperation in his voice made Noct want to cry. Prompto had been taking photos for as long as he could remember- and he had a real talent for it. Whenever they’d discussed their plans for the future, Prompto had only ever talked about one thing: his dream of becoming a professional photographer. It was the one thing he wanted above all else, so to be faced with the prospect of never being able to use his camera again…well, he couldn’t begin to imagine how that would feel.

“Sure.” Noct nodded, his voice far more steady and confident sounding than he really felt. He let out a quiet sigh of relief at the smile that crossed Prompto’s face, an expression that told him that his response was convincing enough. “The doctor says you’re doing well, right?”

“Mmm. Just got to keep doing those exercises. I think…I think they’re working though.” Prompto looked down at his hand as he flexed his fingers. “I couldn’t…I could barely move my hands a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah…” Noct hated to think about it, the memory of almost losing his best friend still too raw. He wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close, wincing internally as he brushed against the sharp edges of his protruding shoulder blades, a stark reminder of how unwell he had been, how weak he still was. 

“So… just gotta keep squeezing that ball thing they gave me and hopefully I’ll be back with my camera in no time!” Prompto looked across at Noct, his eyes wide and optimistic behind his glasses.

“If only we’d known that squeezing balls was the solution to all your problems, I’m sure Iggy would have been more than willing to help out earlier.” Noct let out a snort of laughter, raising one eyebrow as he grinned mischievously.

“Noct!” Prompto cried out, his attempt to feign indignation failing miserably as he burst into a fit of giggles. 

It had been so long that Noct had almost forgotten what it felt like to laugh- to really laugh freely and uncontrollably without a trouble in the world. But as they sat there, shoulders heaving as they both struggled to catch their breaths, he could almost trick himself into believing that they were still in Insomnia. That his father and Luna were still alive and that they were just two normal friends having fun together. That nothing had changed. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t true- everything was different now and there were sure to be more challenging times ahead. He wasn’t even sure when he’d next see his best friend, or what might have changed when he did. But, for a few moments, he let himself forget about it all and just enjoy the time they had together.

They laughed so hard and for so long that Noct’s stomach began to ache but, each time they tried to stop, they would look at each other and Prompto would let out a tiny, high pitched hiccup that set them both off again.

“Sorry Prom,” Noct choked out when they were too exhausted to laugh any more. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Prompto smiled warmly, sighing happily as he rested his head on Noct’s shoulder. They sat there enjoying the remainder of the sunset, the comfortable silence broken only by the occasional muffled hiccup.

“Noct?” Prompto eventually lifted his head, adjusting his glasses as he looked up.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna be fine, you know. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“I know.” There was no need for hesitation. As he looked at his best friend, eyes bright and determined, he knew without a doubt that he was the strongest and bravest person he had ever known. It never failed to amaze him how, in spite of everything that had happened, Prompto still managed to be so positive, so cheerful and full of optimism in the face of adversity. If anyone could recover from this, it was him.

“Just…” He paused to nibble his lower lip nervously. “Will you look after Iggy for me?” His voice wavered as he looked away, staring straight ahead, eyes focused on the last traces of dying sunlight as they danced across the water. He spoke again, voice even quieter this time, almost as if he didn’t intend for Noct to hear. “And…you know… come back safe.” 

“Yeah…” Noct replied. “You can count on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not particularly happy with this but, after re-write number 10, decided I just needed to post it and get on with the next part. Hope you enjoyed it anyway.
> 
> You know how much I love talking about these boys, so [come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/)


	10. Gladio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are complete and everything is ready for Gladio, Ignis and Noct to leave Altissia but, before they go, Gladio pays one final visit to Prompto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to work tomorrow after two weeks off and wanted to get this posted before life gets crazy busy again, as I know it will! 
> 
> I always enjoy writing Prompto and Gladio together, so I had fun writing this. Still not got my confidence back, but going to enjoy myself anyway. Hope you all enjoy <3

Gladio awoke feeling uneasy and, for a few moments, couldn’t quite work out what it was about this morning in particular that was making him feel so strange. He had been sleeping better than he had been a few weeks ago, that was for sure, and he felt a lot better for it. It still wasn’t perfect- after all, he still had a lot on his mind- but it was an improvement at least, and one that he knew his body had desperately needed. As far as he could remember, last night had been no different but, far from feeling well rested, as he propped himself up in bed he noticed his head spinning and his stomach muscles clench tightly, causing an unfamiliar feeling of nausea to wash over him. 

He swung his legs out of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching his arms behind his back, causing his shoulders to crack loudly as he pushed them together in an attempt to wake up his tired muscles. As he pulled on the pants and shirt that lay in a crumpled pile on the floor next to the bed, the sudden realisation of why he felt so uncomfortable hit him, and it hit hard. Today was the day they were leaving Altissia. Everything was ready, or as ready as it was ever going to be, and they’d all had plenty of time to get used to the idea, but that didn’t change the fact that this was going to be hard. For Prompto. For Ignis. For all of them really. But he was determined to hold it all together, to be strong. They could get through this, he was sure of it. And it wasn’t going to be a long journey this time- not if it all went to plan, anyway. The four of them would be back together and chilling out in Cape Caem with Iris and Cor before they knew it. He smiled, the mere thought of it enough to cause a powerful surge of determination inside him. Yes, he was going to do everything he possibly could to make sure that everything went smoothly and quickly so that they could be back with Prompto before he’d even had time to miss them.

Gladio paused as he reached Ignis' bed, torn between waking him so that he could spend as much of the day as possible with Prompto, as Gladio knew he would want, or letting him sleep as long as he needed to so that he was ready for the journey ahead of them. His mind drifted to the events of the previous day, to the argument they’d had, to the look of hurt on Ignis’ face when Gladio had dared to suggest, not for the first time, that he might want to stay behind with Prompto. The truth was, despite his protestations, he _did_ feel some sort of responsibility for Ignis, a desire to protect him at all costs. If he could, he’d lock all three of his friends in a room and leave them there while he went on alone to do what needed to be done, only letting them out when he was sure that things were safe, that they would never again be in danger. But that wasn’t a possibility. It had never been a possibility. And Ignis was right as always- they did need him with them. 

“Iggy?” he whispered softly, waiting for a few seconds to see if his friend would stir. The only sounds coming from the bed were a gentle, rhythmic snoring and the rustle of bed sheets as Ignis shifted onto his side, eyes still firmly closed with no sign of him awakening any time soon. Gladio stood and watched for a few moments, eyes focused on the rise and fall of Ignis’ chest and the peaceful smile that was etched across his face, his muscles twitching occasionally as if he was dreaming. Gladio wondered what filled his friend’s dreams these days and found himself feeling relieved that, for now at least, they seemed to be full of happiness, no trace of the nightmares that he, himself, had experienced far too frequently since Noct’s battle with Leviathan.

He sighed to himself. Perhaps the best thing would be to leave Ignis to sleep. Who knew what would happen once they left Altissia, when they’d next have the opportunity to rent a room and sleep in complete safety… Ignis would be fine without him- he was managing better without his sight every day and the hotel room was so familiar that he was able to navigate around it completely independently now.

Returning to his own side of the room, he shrugged on his jacket and pulled on the boots that lay neatly by the side of the bed. The last few days had been so busy, so hectic as he had rushed to get everything in order, that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have any time at all to relax. He lifted the corner of the blinds that blocked out the early morning light, glancing hopefully out of the window. It was a lovely day- the sun was fighting to break through a hazy blanket of fluffy clouds and a gentle breeze tickled the leaves of the trees. The perfect day for a walk along the river. He grabbed his book and tiptoed towards the door. Finally, he had some time to himself. And he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

********

“Morning Blondie.” Gladio spoke softly as he pushed the door open, half expecting Prompto to still be asleep. It was still pretty early, after all, but he hadn’t been able to resist popping in for a quick visit after his walk. He’d found himself looking forward to the rare occasions he’d managed to spend some time alone with Prompto, and was constantly impressed by how positive he was managing to stay throughout this whole miserable situation. Yes, he’d had a few ups and downs, which was to be expected considering everything that had happened but, overall, he was coping much better than Gladio knew he would if he ever, gods forbid, found himself in a similar position. He grinned to himself. Prompto may look like the slightest gust of wind could knock him off his feet at any moment, but the kid was strong- maybe the strongest one of all of them.

He was surprised to see a nurse, who he recognised as being the first person he’d spoken to when he had arrived at the hospital with Prompto clutched tightly in his arms, sitting on the edge of the bed, arm wrapped reassuringly around Prompto’s shoulder as she stroked his hair. He’d seen her on many occasions since- she’d taken a particular shine to Prompto (because, really, who could resist the kid?)- and her presence had become familiar and comforting to all of them. But this time he could sense that there was something wrong. Prompto’s head was slumped forwards so that his face was completely hidden by the shock of messy blonde hair that had flopped down over his eyes but, even without being able to see him properly, his body language told Gladio everything he needed to know.

He was about to open his mouth to say something when the nurse glanced in his direction, leaning down to whisper something in Prompto’s ear before silently gesturing to him to step outside. Gladio raised one eyebrow but kept his objections to himself. If he’d learnt anything over the last couple of weeks it was that he didn’t always know the right thing to say or do so, this time, he was willing to do as she asked. And if she thought it was in Prompto’s best interests that he leave him alone for a few moments, she was probably right.

Gladio had barely left the room before the nurse came across to talk to him, her face full of sympathy as she glanced back at Prompto

“He’s feeling a little vulnerable this morning,” she murmured, her voice calm and even despite her obvious concern. “Might need a bit of looking after…”

“What? I don’t understand…” Gladio looked over her shoulder at where Prompto sat, his slight frame hunched over so that his head rested in his hands. He had been completely fine yesterday. Cheerful, even. What could possibly have happened over night to make him feel like this?

“Unsettled him a bit, poor thing.” The nurse sighed, a slight hint of frustration creeping into her voice as she pointed towards the bed. Clearly she thought it should be obvious to him what the cause of the upset was but, as Gladio’s eyes followed the direction of her hand, desperately trying to see whatever it was that could possibly have caused Prompto so much distress, he thought he was going to have to risk her wrath by asking her to tell him outright what had happened. He couldn’t see…

“Oh…” There it was, balanced precariously on the table next to the bed, rays of sunlight reflecting off it and scattering tiny specks of light across the ceiling. A mirror. He didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it before. “Shit.” 

“Try and get him to talk about it if you can.” The nurse placed a hand on Gladio’s arm and squeezed gently. “I hate seeing him so upset and he trusts you.” She smiled up at him so warmly that Gladio couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’ll try my best,” he muttered back, taking a deep breath as he wracked his brains to try to find the right thing to say, the words that would make Prompto feel better. 

He was still struggling to compose the perfect sentence as he walked tentatively over to the bed, settling down next to Prompto and running his fingers through the long blonde tangles on the top of his head, trying to gently ease out some of the knots that had begun to form after days upon end of lying in the same position. He knew Prompto found it calming when Ignis stroked his hair, and, although he knew it wasn’t the same, he hoped he’d be able to have a similar effect. Prompto leaned in to Gladio’s touch with a heart-breaking eagerness that made Gladio want to hold onto him tightly and never let go. 

Eventually he pulled his hand away, moving it down so that it rested in the middle of Prompto’s back where he drew soft, soothing circles with his fingers.

“What’s up, Prom?” 

“N…n…nothing…” Prompto managed to stammer out the single word between wet sniffles but it couldn’t have sounded less convincing if he’d tried.

“Prom…” He paused, fighting to find the words he needed to finish the sentence, frustrated when they wouldn’t come, his mind suddenly completely blank. This was new to him, the feeling of being lost for words. And he didn’t like it at all. 

He shifted position so that he was perched on the corner of the bed, their bodies now facing each other, and reached up to run his hand over the side of Prompto’s face in an attempt to get him to look up, carefully avoiding any contact with the raised, red line that cut across his cheek. 

“Please, Gladdy.” Prompto flinched away, turning his head so that the side of his face was completely hidden from view. His eyes were brimming with tears and his bottom lip trembled as he fought them back. “It’s… please don’t…”

“Hey, no- don’t cry. Look at me.” Prompto bit down on his lower lip with such force that Gladio was surprised that he didn’t draw blood. He watched the blonde’s chest rising and falling unevenly as he took deep, rasping breaths- a panic attack was surely not too far away and Gladio was running out of time to figure out how to calm him down. “Really, Prom- look at me.” 

“I…I can’t…”

Prompto shook his head slowly, his hair falling back down over his eyes as he did so. He brushed it away absentmindedly, his hand quivering as it played with the longest strands, twisting them into tight spirals around his fingers. 

“It’s hard, I know.” Gladio couldn’t stop himself from reaching up and, as carefully as he possibly could, prising Prompto’s fingers away from where they were now intertwined with the longer section of hair at the front of his head. Wrapping his own hands around them, he held on tightly, running his fingertips softly over rough, dry knuckles in the same way he had seen Ignis do on many occasion. “Believe me- I of all people understand how you’re feeling.”

“You don’t though. You’re always so confident. So sure of yourself. I’m…I’m not like you…”

“You think I’ve always been like this?” He let out a loud chuckle in spite of himself. “Honestly, when I first got this one,” he pointed at the long scar that ran over his eye and down his cheek, “I couldn’t look at myself for days and then, when I eventually caught sight of myself in the mirror, I found it pretty hard to come to terms with the fact that I’d have a permanent reminder of what that asshole did to me.”

“But…but it’s different for you.” Prompto peered up at him, red-rimmed, swollen eyes barely visible between tufts of hair. “You look… your scars don’t look bad. Not like this…” He covered his cheek with his hand, a solitary tear escaping the corner of his eye and rolling down until it slipped underneath his palm.

“Why is it different for me? Because I’m the King’s Shield?” He paused, waiting for an answer that he knew Prompto wouldn’t be able to give. “Let me see it. Please, kid.” He gave Prompto’s hand the smallest of tugs and was grateful when it fell limply and easily away from his face. 

Gladio gently tilted Prompto’s head to one side, ignoring the tiny, half-hearted whimper of objection, to enable him to examine the scar properly. He realised that it was the first time he’d really looked at it- he’d been far too relieved that Prompto had survived whatever it was that had happened to him to even think about what the lasting damage would be. It just hadn’t seemed important. It still wasn’t- not to him at least. Certainly not to Ignis or Noct. But seeing it now, weaving a path through his freckles as it travelled from the corner of one eye to just below his lower lip, Gladio could see why Prompto had been so upset. It _was_ bad- there was no denying that- but, he reasoned, it was still healing. He thought back to when he’d received his first scar, the frustration of having to wait out the shockingly long healing time before he was able to observe the final result. None of that would help Prompto now, but it would explain the lingering swelling and redness, the way the edges puckered as they knitted themselves back together, the fact the line was bumpy and raised, standing out against the smooth pale skin that surrounded it rather than lying flat against the side of Prompto’s face. Once it healed, it would look at lot less conspicuous, Gladio was sure of that.

“My scars are easily as bad as this one, Prom. Probably worse. You just don’t notice them anymore.”

“But…but I look…it looks so ugly…”

“It’s still healing, Blondie.” Gladio smiled, softly brushing back the veil of hair that had fallen down over Prompto’s forehead, taking his chin between two fingers and raising his head so that he was forced to make eye contact. “When I look at you, at this scar, all I see is someone who was brave enough to fight for his king, to protect his friends. That’s all.”

Gladio paused for long enough for Prompto to think about what he was saying, to really let the words sink in and understand that Gladio was speaking the truth. He reached up with his other hand to tuck the rest of Prompto’s hair behind his ear so that his face was completely exposed for the first time that morning. “Don’t ever feel like you need to hide this,” he soothed, gesturing towards his cheek. “Be proud of your scars. Be proud of who you are. Because I am. More than you could ever know.” He grinned. These were the sort of words his father would have said. Perhaps he was becoming more like him than he’d realised.

“Sorry, Gladdy. I know it’s stupid.” Prompto wrapped his hand around Gladio’s wrist but didn’t attempt to pull it away from where it still rested against his chin. He sniffed a few times and took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll be fine. I just… I’ve never really been comfortable with the way I look and now… “ He swallowed, eyes still glistening with tears. “No more crying, I promise. Gods know I’ve cried enough these past few weeks. I’ll stop being so pathetic now.” He let out a weak, unconvincing laugh and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

“It’s not pathetic. Not at all. I think you’re incredibly brave, actually. Much braver than I was.” He let go of Prompto’s chin, moving his finger to run it along the scar, expecting Prompto to flinch away. But, to his surprise and delight, he didn’t even break eye contact, blinking away the remaining tears as he attempted a grateful smile. “And Prom? We all have our battle scars. It’s just a reminder of everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve fought for. You’ll see that one day, I promise.”

“Yeah…yeah I guess you’re right. But Iggy…” Prompto glanced up at him, eyes wide with worry.

“Iggy loves you. There is nothing that would make him stop loving you, I’m sure of that.” 

“But if he could see…”

“If he could see,” Gladio interrupted, “He’d tell you how perfect you are. How none of this matters to him. And you’d believe him, wouldn’t you, Prom?”

“Yeah, I… I would…” Prompto sounded more cheerful now, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes and his cheeks finally regaining some of their colour. He pushed himself up in the bed and shook his hair away from his face, looking so much more confident and relaxed than he had been when Gladio had first entered the room that he could have been a completely different person.

“So believe _me_. This scar doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change how we see you, who you are. You got that now, kid?”

Prompto nodded with such a renewed sense of confidence that Gladio’s heart leapt in his chest. How could he ever have been worried about leaving Prompto behind? Yes, he wasn’t afraid to lay himself bare and display the chinks in his internal armour but, behind it all, there was a quiet, fearless determination that Gladio had almost forgotten about. Prompto would be absolutely fine, he had no doubt about that. The rest of them…well, he wasn’t so how they’d manage without him.

“Thanks, Gladdy. I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” Gladio leant across to ruffle Prompto’s hair affectionately. “You can always talk to me, Blondie. I hope you know that.”

“I do. It… it means a lot.” Prompto smiled up at him, the last remaining traces of sadness vanishing into thin air as he wrapped his arms around Gladio and hugged him tightly. Gladio felt himself stiffen for a moment before allowing himself to relax into the embrace and squeeze back. He supposed he didn’t have to be strong and aloof all the time. Sometimes, maybe- just maybe- it would be alright for him to show more of who he really was rather than keeping his emotions locked away inside. It wouldn’t hurt any of them to be a bit more like Prompto…

A sound at the door, a quiet but purposeful clearing of a throat, cut through his thoughts and the two friends reluctantly pulled apart, turning to face the direction of the noise.

“Hey Iggy,” Prompto exclaimed brightly, his face practically glowing as he watched his lover make his way across the room towards him. Gladio quickly got up and moved away from the chair that he knew Ignis always aimed for, grunting by way of a greeting to indicate his position in the room.

“Good morning, my darling,” Ignis replied, lowering himself into the chair and leaning forwards to drop a delicate kiss on the top of Prompto’s head. “Hello, Gladio.”

Prompto sighed happily, reaching up to trace a finger delicately around the line of Ignis’ jaw before moving to brush it over his lips, lingering there for a few moments longer than he needed to as he watched his lover tremble in anticipation.

“Don’t mind me…” Gladio muttered under his breath, catching Prompto’s eye and smirking.

“Jealous, are we?” Ignis looked over and raised one eyebrow, the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch, a sure-fire sign that he was close to laughter.

Gladio snorted. He loved the effect that Prompto had on his best friend- he somehow managed to bring out a playful side that Gladio wasn’t sure he’d ever seen in Ignis in all the years before he met Prompto.

“There’s plenty of love to go around,” Ignis continued, wrapping his arm around the back of Prompto’s neck and pulling him forwards to dot tiny, quick kisses over each individual freckle as if- even in the absence of sight- he had no trouble remembering exactly where they were. He drew back for a second, pausing briefly before placing a final, firmer kiss over the lower edge of Prompto’s scar. Gladio could see Prompto’s cheeks beginning to redden, the pink tinge spreading upwards until his entire face was flushed. He knew he was outstaying his welcome but, he had to admit, he was quite enjoying this out-of-character display of affection from Ignis. “Are you still here, Gladio?” As if reading his mind, Ignis turned around so that he was directly facing him, looking so much like he was staring him straight in the eye that it took Gladio a few seconds to remember that he wasn’t able to actually see him.

“He is…” Prompto nodded, pressing up against Ignis’ back and resting his chin on his shoulder as he looked up at him, a contented grin on his face.

“Thanks, Blondie. I’m clearly not capable of answering for myself anymore,” Gladio laughed, running his hands through his hair as he tried to think of a plausible excuse for why he’d been watching them together.

“Iggy…Gladio’s gone red,” Prompto giggled, nuzzling softly against the side of Ignis’ neck.

“Has he now…” Ignis crossed his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow again, his amusement at Gladio’s expense evident on his face.

“Thanks for nothing, Prom,” Gladio murmured, rubbing the back of his neck and turning towards the door, biting his lip to stop another snort of laughter form escaping.

“You’re welcome!” Prompto sang, his voice was as bright and cheerful as ever, his words like music to Gladio’s ears. Gods, he was going to miss that sound while they were gone.

Ignis turned back round to face Prompto, leaning forwards so that their foreheads rested against each other. He lovingly smoothed his lover’s hair away from his face, leaving his hands resting on the sides on his head, fingers intertwined with strands of hair as he held on tightly. Gladio watched as Prompto reached around Ignis’ waist and pulled him closer, gripping the material of his shirt as if he was afraid of what would happen if he let go. 

“I’ll um… I’ll be going, then.” Gladio cleared his throat awkwardly, tugging his jacket off the back of the chair and throwing it over his arm before heading to the door.

“I thought you already had.” Ignis didn’t even bother to turn around this time, his two friends now completely focused on each other and nothing else. Gladio smiled. If this wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.

“I don’t think Gladio can take a hint.” Prompto glanced over, the corners of his lips fighting against his smile, his eyebrows slightly raised. Gladio looked away before that mischievous look of his spread- he knew just how contagious it could be. But despite his attempt to keep up the pretence of being offended, maintaining his expression of exaggerated hurt, he’d already glanced back and, in a few seconds, had a grin on his own face that mirrored the one on Prompto’s.

“Hint very much taken.” Gladio shook his head as he started to chuckle. “I’m out of here!”

“Hey…Gladdy?” He was half way out of the door when he heard Prompto’s voice, quiet and serious this time, call his name. He peered back at him over his shoulder. “You’ll come back later, right? Before you leave?”

“You really think I’d go without saying goodbye? Of course I’ll come back.” He paused, resisting the urge to dash back over to the bed and gather both Prompto and Ignis up in his arms. “And I’ll bring Noct too. I’m sure he’s desperate to see you.”

Prompto gave a grateful nod and shot a tiny smile in Gladio’s direction before turning all his attention back to Ignis, burying his head in his chest and tightening his grip around his waist.

“Oh, and Gladio?” Ignis momentarily lifted his head to look at him.

“Hmm?”

“You might want to make sure you’re not back _too_ soon.” His voice was somber but the corners of his lips were twitching again and, as Gladio left the room, he could just make out a gentle chuckle, quiet and deep against Prompto’s muffled giggles.

Gladio sniggered at the memory as he made his way back to the hotel, ignoring the confused glances of strangers- clearly wondering what he was so amused about- as he passed them. He didn’t care what they thought. He felt relaxed, a spring in his step as he walked back along the river, and wasn’t afraid for other people to see it. Everything was falling into place at last. Perhaps they could do this after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this, I kept thinking about this quote from Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream: And though she be but little, she is fierce. It reminded me so much of how I see Prompto...
> 
> Anyway, it's going to be difficult to write these boys coping with being separated. I already can't wait to get them all back together.
> 
> Comments and any feedback are always very much appreciated. [come and find me on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/) <3


	11. Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the others leaving, Prompto struggles to get used to being on his own. A couple of surprise visitors could be exactly what he needs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken a while to update! These boys have minds of their own and never seem to do what I want them to.
> 
> As a result, this chapter turned out completely differently to the way I'd planned. Turns out Prom is far stronger than I'd anticipated! I prefer it this way, though.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy. Thank you to those who have stuck with this- I promise that a happy ending is in sight!

The rest of the day passed more quickly than Prompto thought possible and, for him at least, much of it was spent in a daze, almost unbelieving that the day he had been dreading was actually here. That this was actually happening. Refusing to admit to himself that he was terrified- of being left alone, of not being able to cope, of something happening to stop the others from keeping their promise of returning to him. That was what scared him the most. The fear that he might never see them again. That he might never see Iggy again. 

But the others couldn’t know how he was feeling. He could see by the dark shadows under their eyes and the way their mouths twisted into tight, forced smiles that they didn’t want to leave. They felt guilty- he knew that. Gladio had as much as said it to him. And he didn’t want that. This was hard enough already, and him crying and screaming and begging them to stay would only make it so much more painful for all of them. No, he couldn’t do that. He wanted them to think that he would be okay, that he was happy for them to go on without him. He needed them to think that. So he laughed and joked and smiled as they said their goodbyes, playfully pulling away when Noct held him in an embrace for far longer than he usually did, tenderly kissing away Ignis’ tears as they murmured declarations of love, speaking confidently and cheerfully as he reassured Gladio that he was feeling much stronger already. It was all a lie but… Well, he’d gotten so good at lying over the years- to himself and to other people- that it wasn’t even particularly difficult anymore. It felt natural.

It wasn’t until the nurse came to give him his final dose of pain medication, giving his hand a tight squeeze when she asked if he needed anything before he slept, her usually sparkling eyes dull and sad as she looked down at him, that it really dawned on him. They were gone. They were really gone and he didn’t know when they were coming back. He was on his own now. He would have to fight his battles alone, struggle through the constant nightmares without Ignis there to hold him when he awoke, heart pounding and drenched in sweat; come to terms with the aftermath of his injuries without Gladio there to talk him through it, to stop the panic that he so often felt rising in his chest; spend his days consumed by his own thoughts and worries without Noct there to distract him.

When the nurse left the room, flicking off the light and whispering goodnight as she closed the door gently behind her, Prompto gazed upwards, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. A few hazy remnants of fluorescence lingered around the strip light above his bed, emitting a glow that cast shadows across the walls and over the floor. He counted the seconds as the glow died down, watching until the only light left in the entire room was the glimmer of light that crept in from the corridor, sneaking through the crack at the bottom of the door. Eventually, even that disappeared and he was left in darkness, his eyes wide open as he continued to stare at the ceiling. Prompto swallowed, a familiar burning sensation pressing behind his eyes as if it was trying to force out the tears that were locked inside. Why couldn’t he cry? It’s not as if he’d ever had any difficulty before. On the contrary, he usually cried so easily- at anything and everything. The sight of an injured animal. Being asked to join the Crownsguard. A beautiful sunset. The first time he’d tasted Ignis’ cooking (they’d all laughed at him for that one). It didn’t take much but now, a moment when he really needed the cathartic relief that he knew crying would provide him with, his eyes were completely dry, with not a tear in sight. 

It wasn’t even as though he felt sad. Not really. He felt nothing. No sign at all of the emotion that he expected to overwhelm him once he could finally stop the pretence he had put on all day. He was completely numb, as if every emotion had upped and left him, a shell- torn apart and stripped bare. It was a good metaphor, he thought. A shell was a useless, inanimate object. One to be admired for a few seconds and then discarded, thrown back onto the sand where it would eventually be swept up in the waves and pulled back out to sea. It would soon be forgotten. It had, after all, had little impact on the person who had once held it in their hands, admiring it momentarily before tossing it away without a thought. He was that shell. Alone and struggling to keep afloat, in constant fear of the moment he would slip underneath the water for the final time, never again rising above the surface. Lost forever.

Prompto sighed and closed his eyes, the blackness of the room replaced by the swirling darkness of the back of his own eyelids. He could feel himself floating, detaching from his body and hovering above it, his limbs losing that heavy, leaden sensation that they so often carried with them these days. His mind was fuzzy, his thoughts and memories hazy as he hung there, somewhere between consciousness and sleep, his brain’s way of attempting to protect him from everything that was happening. He pressed the palms of his hands into the crisp cotton sheets lining the bed, rubbing against the slightly rough material in an attempt to bring his mind and body back together. To connect them. To refill the shell. Whatever he wanted now, he knew that he needed to stay here. In reality. He needed to cling to it with all his might if he wanted his body to ever recover. What was it that Ignis sometimes said to him? He searched his thoughts, fighting through the heavy haze to recall Ignis’ words. That was it. _‘If you want things to get better, sometimes you have to weather the storm.’_ And, more than anything, he wanted things to get better. So if that meant fighting, he was prepared for it. And what’s more, he was going to win. He had to.

He prised his eyelids open, a tiny smile on his face as he felt a single, salty tear slide down his cheek, ticking the top of his lip as it hung there, an invitation for the others to follow. So what if he was a shell. He knew what Ignis would say, could almost hear his voice in his head as he contradicted Prompto’s earlier negative thoughts, as he dredged up some random facts that he’d once learnt, knowing they’d come in handy at some point. _‘Come now, my darling. Shells aren’t insignificant at all,’_ he’d say. _‘They have an impact in more ways than you realise: as material for bird’s nests, as a home for the multitude of tiny creatures at the bottom of the sea, as a wall, a barrier, in a fish’s fight against predators. Shells weather years of storms, being tossed around in violent waves, slammed against rocks and cliffs, buried in layer upon layer of sand and shale at the bottom of the ocean, only to emerge again years later stronger than ever. Shells are so strong, my love. They may get cracked or scratched or chipped, but they never shatter. Just like you. And if you are a shell, Prom? You’re definitely the strongest and most beautiful of them all.’_

Prompto felt his smile grow wider even as the tears poured down his face. Whatever was thrown his way, he knew he was ready for. Nothing could break him. And by the time the others returned, he was going to make sure that he was stronger than ever.

********

The next couple of days passed slowly, each hour dragging more than the last with nothing to do and very little company. He didn’t feel sad anymore. He’d cried all the tears he’d needed to cry and had enough time to get used to being without the others. He was just bored- more bored than he’d ever been in his life. The nurse- the one he liked- stayed to chat as much as she was able to, but Prompto knew she was busy and ended up feeling guilty for taking up so much of her time. The best option seemed to be to spend as much of the day as possible sleeping- he supposed it was good for his recovery anyway- and, by the end of the third day, days and nights merged together so that only the meals he was brought three times a day and the changing light that shone through the tiny window near the bed gave him any sense of time at all.

On one occasion, Prompto awoke to a doctor he didn’t think he’d ever seen before standing at the foot of his bed, flicking through his notes as he chewed at the tip of his pen. He didn’t remember drifting off but he supposed he must have done since the last time he’d looked outside it was dark and it was definitely morning now. The curtains had already been pulled open and the sun was shining through the window, illuminating the whole room which, even in his bleary-eyed, half-awake state, looked a whole lot less bleak and lonely than it had done the night before. 

He began to push himself up, dragging his legs along with the rest of his body. He’d regained a lot of the strength in his upper body- even his hands were starting to be able to handle some of the more refined movements that had been giving him difficulty (although, obviously, he still had a long way to go before he’d be able to operate a gun or, more importantly for him, his camera again). His legs, however, were still heavy and uncooperative, refusing to complete the most simple of movements. He hated having to use a wheelchair and had, in fact, refused to get in it for such a long time until, eventually, he had realised that he had no choice if he wanted to go anywhere other than his hospital bed. The doctor- not the one at the end of his bed but the one he recognised, the one who had been treating him since he had come in- came to see him every day, testing his mobility, his strength, his ability to perform certain movements. But, if he was honest with himself, Prompto couldn’t really see any change, any improvement in how his legs felt. It wasn’t that he couldn’t feel his legs- they were definitely there, aching and burning every minute of every day. They just felt so heavy, like they were tied to the bed with invisible rope, weights hanging off his ankles to prevent him from moving. The doctor always reassured him that it would get better but he was starting to lose hope. Starting to try to come round to the idea that he might never walk again. Not easily, anyway. It was hard, to have to consider spending the rest of his life in a wheelchair, but if Ignis could come to terms with being blind then he was sure he’d manage it somehow. He’d have to, he supposed, if it came to it. He’d come so far that he wasn’t about to give up now.

“Your friend informed me that you might have a couple of visitors today.” The doctor’s voice, loud and gruff, interrupted Prompto’s thoughts, and he endeavoured to push himself up further, his arms shaking as he pressed them into the bed.

The doctor watched him the whole time, not a hint of emotion displayed on his face as he watched him struggle, beads of sweat forming on his forehead with the effort of trying to make each limb do what he wanted it to. It was always harder in the morning, almost as if the connections between his brain and his muscles had given in to exhaustion overnight and it was taking time for them to wake back up. He didn’t blame them. It was exhausting, this constant battle with his body. 

“My friend?” Prompto cleared his throat, his voice husky and slightly croaky- the way it always was when he first woke up. He wanted to ask for a glass of water or, even better, reach across to the table by his bed and grab one himself, but this doctor made him nervous. He didn’t know why he was there, why he was reading his notes. He wanted his usual doctor back. He didn’t feel so anxious when he was there.

“The one with the…” The doctor pointed to his own cheek, running his finger down it to mirror Gladio’s scar.

“Oh. Gladio…” Prompto cast his eyes down at the bed, picking at his wristband as he remembered that Gladio wouldn’t be coming to visit him today. None of them would. But the doctor had said he might have visitors? Were Iris and Cor coming already? Gladio had mentioned something about him going back to Cape Caem when he was well enough, that Iris and Cor would look after him until they got back. He remembered getting frustrated and saying something about not being a child, not needing people to look after him. That he’d be able to look after himself. But, now that it came to it, he was grateful that Gladio had thought ahead. There was no way he could do this on his own, he could admit that now, and at least if he was with people who knew him he’d be safe and able to focus on his recovery.

The doctor smiled, some warmth creeping in behind his eyes and making his face much less cold and severe. Prompto felt himself relax, his breathing becoming slower and more controlled, and he leant back against the pillows, letting himself sink into them.

“I expect they’ll want to take you back with them before too long.” The doctor slotted the notes back into their place and moved around to the side of the bed. “Mind if I take a look at this?” he questioned, gesturing towards the back of Prompto’s head.

Prompto brushed his bangs away from his eyes and shook his head, nervously biting at his bottom lip as the doctor gently tilted his head forward so that his chin rested on his chest. He still hated being touched like this, like he was some kind of scientific experiment whose only purpose was to be constantly examined. He knew that people were trying to help, that they were only doing their job and that, actually, they were the reason he was getting better. But even though he knew all that, at times like this- when he had to endure cold hands tugging against the tight, puckered skin of his scar, rough fingertips brushing away the longer strands of hair to reveal the short spikes on the areas of his scalp that had been shaved, drawing a line from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck, prodding and poking in various places along the way- it didn’t make him feel better. The only thing he could do was close his eyes, breathe deeply and wait for it to be over, for the hands to release his head and move away, giving him the space that he desperately craved. 

“Still painful?”

Prompto shook his head again, hair flopping forward over his face as he moved. It wasn’t really. Just the occasional twinge when the scar rubbed against something the wrong way. So much better than it had been a few weeks ago. 

The doctor’s hands still pressed against the back of his head, the chill where his fingertips brushed his almost-bare scalp enough to make him shiver. The hair had started to grow back, he could feel that from where sharp, short tufts itched and irritated the scar as they grew around it, but he knew it was short- shorter than it had ever been before. And he still wasn’t used to being able to feel someone touch his head- his actual scalp rather than just stroking against his hair. It felt strange. Uncomfortable. 

Prompto wasn’t sure whether it was the actual physical sensation that he found so difficult to deal with or whether it was the reminder of how awful he must look. It was silly really- he was stuck in a hospital bed, recovering from injuries that had nearly killed him, still unable to walk or do basic tasks for himself, and yet the things that bothered him the most were the scar on his cheek and the state of his hair. He would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it if not for the fact that he didn’t trust himself not to burst into tears at any moment. When Gladio had first told him that they’d had to shave part of his hair when they’d taken him into surgery, the first things he’d asked were _‘how much?’_ and _‘how bad does it look?’_ Gladio’s response of it not mattering what he looked like, although heartfelt and said with the kindest of intentions, hadn’t done much to put his mind at rest. 

He’d reached up to run his hand over the back of his head on several occasions since the bandages had been removed and, the first time, had been devastated to feel how much hair seemed to be missing. He knew he’d have to cut the rest of it before he left the hospital but he hated to think about what he’d look like with short hair. He already felt self conscious as it was, and the thought of his face, his scar, being completely exposed was a lot to deal with. Gladio had done a lot to make him feel better about himself, but he still had a long way to go before he would be okay with what he saw when he looked in the mirror. Still, he knew he had to do something to fix it. He had a feeling that nothing he did could possibly make it look worse than the state it was in at the moment…

Prompto swallowed, trying not to think about it as the doctor continued to explore the area around the scar. That was a problem for another day. He didn’t need to do anything about it right now.

“The wound’s healing nicely.” The doctor smoothed Prompto’s remaining hair back down and removed his hands, moving them to rearrange the pillows behind him before helping lower him onto them, plump and cushioned against the back of his head. He smiled warmly as he held out a fresh glass of water, his hand hovering underneath as Prompto took a few sips, always ready to catch the glass if it fell.

“You…um…you read my notes?” Prompto clutched the glass tightly against his chest and licked his lips, his tongue cool and moist against the dry, cracked skin surrounding his mouth. He took another sip of water, hands trembling as he lifted the glass, before handing it back to the doctor who placed it on the table, exchanging it for Prompto’s glasses. He opened up the frames but, instead of sliding them onto his face, placed them firmly into his hands. It was a small gesture, but one that Prompto appreciated. He was sick and tired of people just doing things for him without asking. He needed to start doing things for himself but, to do that, he needed people to let him try. “Thank you,” he murmured, putting them on and adjusting them, sliding them slightly further down his nose than he usually would so that they didn’t rub against his scar. 

“Yes,” the doctor nodded, picking up the notes again and jotting something down. Prompto wished he could see what the doctor was writing but, even with his glasses on, it was just that bit too small to read and, besides, he probably wouldn’t have understood it even if he had been able to see it. “I was just taking a look so that I know what to say to your friends. Wanted to make sure I was completely up to date with the progress of your recovery.”

“And how is it?” The words were spoken so quietly that they were almost inaudible, a tiny moan escaping Prompto’s lips rather than the clear question he had constructed in his head. He was nervous for some reason, scared that, if the doctor didn’t think he was doing well enough, he would never be able to leave the hospital. 

“I beg your pardon?” The doctor looked up at the sound, his forehead creased in genuine confusion as he waited for him to continue. He placed the clipboard containing Prompto’s notes down on the bed and moved round to the side where he perched on the chair- Ignis’ chair. Prompto shifted uncomfortably. It felt wrong, somehow, to have someone other than Ignis sitting there.

“My recovery… is it… am I… do you think I might be able to leave the hospital soon?” Prompto looked down, picking at the skin around his fingernails as he listened to his heart pounding against his ribcage. He’d asked the question, but part of him dreaded finding out the answer. What if the doctor didn’t think he was progressing well? What if he made him stay here until he was able to walk on his own? He could be here for months… He closed his eyes as he awaited the doctor’s reply, almost hoping that it would never come, that the question would just be left hanging there, open and without an answer for eternity whilst, at the same time, needing to hear a response. 

“You’re recovering spectacularly well, Mr Argentum.” Prompto met the doctor’s eyes and blinked in disbelief, his whole body relaxing as he let out the breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding. “In fact,” the doctor continued, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone with an injury as bad as yours was recover so much movement so quickly.” 

“But… but I still can’t… my legs…” 

“You’ll get there. If the rest of your recovery is anything to go by, I have no reason to doubt you’ll be up and learning to walk again in no time.”

“You really think so?” Prompto’s eyes were wide behind his glasses as he peered up at the doctor. It was the answer he’d been hoping for when he’d asked the question, but he would have been lying if he’d said it was what he’d expected to hear. Ever since he’d awoken that morning and seen the doctor scanning his notes, brow furrowed and eyes serious as he read them, he’d been ready to hear bad news. He’d been convinced of it, and thought he’d almost managed to prepare himself for the worst: that he’d never walk again, that he was still far too weak to even consider leaving the hospital. But the doctor sounded so positive. Maybe he’d be able to go back to Cape Caem with Cor and Iris even sooner than he’d hoped. He felt his heart flutter in his chest as he considered it- with excitement this time rather than the usual anxiety. He’d begun to feel more comfortable here but, although Noct, Gladio and Ignis had done their best to make it feel more homely for him, it was still a hospital, the stark, empty walls and white, tiled floors a constant reminder of everything that had happened. Even when his friends had been here, there had been long periods of time that he’d been alone, subjected to more and more tests, prodded and poked, lights shone into his eyes, his wounds constantly redressed. More than anything now he wanted to be left alone and he knew that- in familiar surroundings, the sand and sea literally at his doorstep, in the care of people he knew and trusted- he’d be able to recover so much faster.

“Let time run its course.” The doctor nodded his head, scratching at his beard with the tip of his forefinger. “I don’t expect it will be easy- these things never are- but I have every faith you’ll walk again eventually.” He patted Prompto awkwardly on the shoulder before quickly removing his hand and shoving it into his jacket pocket, clearing his throat as he turned to leave the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, turning back as he reached the door. “I have a few other patients I need to see. I’ll be back to talk to your friends when they arrive. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes…I…I think so…” Prompto looked around. He had enough water, there was a pile of brand new photography magazines by his bed that Noct had bought him before he left, he had his phone, and his dexterity had returned enough for him to be able to put on his headphones and select the music he wanted to listen to- though he was still a way away from being able to play Kings Knight again. Yes, he had everything he needed. He smiled. “Thank you,” he murmured, suddenly feeling lighter and more hopeful than he had for a long time. 

The doctor returned the smile before closing the door gently behind him and, as Prompto listened to his footsteps, gradually getting softer and softer as he disappeared along the corridor, he leant back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

Soon, Cor and Iris would be here to take him away from the hospital and then his recovery could really begin. Now, all he had to do was sit back and wait.

********

“Should I wake him?”

Prompto awoke with a start to the sensation of a soft hand stroking his hair away from his forehead and a small, uncertain voice close to his ear. He lay there for a few moments- his body completely still- as he tried to work out how long he’d been asleep. He remembered the doctor leaving, and the excitement he’d felt at hearing how well his recovery was going, how close he was to being able to go home. But he couldn’t recall what had happened after that or how much time had passed since then. It was frustrating, having to sleep so much, but he knew his body was exhausted and there was no point trying to fight it while he was still healing- the tiredness always won no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open.

“Iris?” His voice sounded strange even to his own ears, like his tongue was swollen and clumsy with not enough room in his mouth to move around properly. He knew what he was trying to say but he wasn’t sure anybody else- certainly not anybody who hadn’t spent much time around him recently and who wasn’t used to deciphering his still-slurred speech- would be able to understand him. It was a lot clearer than it had been and, most of the time at least, he felt like he was able to hold pretty comprehensible conversations without having to repeat himself too much. But it was definitely at its worst when he had just woken up like he had now, like his mouth was still asleep and slow to catch on to the fact that it needed to do its job. He tried not to get frustrated with himself- he’d learnt that getting angry only made his body even less co-operative- but that didn’t stop it being embarrassing. 

“Hey Prommy!” Iris’ voice was light and breezy, the same as it had been in all the time he’d known her, but as Prompto opened his eyes he saw that her smile was strained and there was a sadness behind her eyes that had been growing darker every day since her father’s death. “The nurse said you were probably sleeping but I just couldn’t resist coming in to say hi! Cor said I should try not to wake you but…” She dropped a quick kiss on Prompto’s cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly, the sweet fragrance of her hair as she brushed against him- vanilla mixed with a slight hint of cinnamon- a reminder of happier, easier times.

“Careful, Iris,” Prompto heard Cor chuckle from across the room. “You’ll squeeze him to death if you don’t let go of him soon.”

“Death by hugs,” Iris giggled, loosening her grip and pulling back, her eyes twinkling as she smiled at Prompto. “What a way to go, right?”

“Not a bad way to go,” Prompto replied, speaking slowly as he took his time to form each word. “If I had to choose a way to die, hugs would be pretty near the top of my list.” He grinned, the sound of Iris’ laugher- gentle and light, like a wind chime being touched by the breeze- worth the effort it had taken for him to form the sentence.

“How are you doing, Prommy?” Iris sat down on the end of bed and pushed Prompto’s legs to one side to give her enough room to cross her own legs in front of her. She leant forwards, propping her head up on her arms as she looked at him questioningly. If she was at all phased by his appearance, she didn’t show it, looking him straight in the eye as she waited for him to respond. “Feeling better? Not missing the others too much, I hope? Ready to get out of here, I bet. You don’t look as bad as I thought you would. Gladdy said that…”

“Iris Amicitia, do you ever stop talking?” Cor cut her off, his voice sharp as he spoke, the single raised eyebrow the only thing giving away his amusement. “Give Prompto chance to answer, at least, if you’re going to bombard him with a million and one questions.” 

“Okay, okay,” Iris laughed again. “Sorry, Prom. Just excited to see you, I guess.” She reached out to take Prompto’s hand, her delicate fingers warm and soft as they wrapped themselves around his own. “And I was so worried about you.” Her voice was quieter now, more subdued as she looked down at the bed. “I…we… though you were going to die and…” She swallowed, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Iris…” Cor spoke again, making his way across the room to place a hand firmly on Iris’ shoulder, letting it linger there until she was ready to speak again.

“Sorry.” Iris looked up again, smiling as she wiped away the tear that had already made its way half way down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Prommy. I don’t know why I’m crying.” A strange sound escaped her lips- a cross between a chuckle and a sob. “Cor- why am I crying?”

“Don’t ask me,” Cor replied, hand still gripping her shoulder as he looked down at her, his mouth twisted into the smallest of smiles. “I don’t know why you do half the things you do!”

Prompto couldn’t help but laugh at the hilarity of the situation. Iris was the same as she always was- somehow managing to make her way through every emotion under the sun over the course of several minutes before returning to her usual cheerful self in the way that only Iris could- and Cor clearly didn’t have a clue either what was going on or how to deal with it.

“What’s so funny?” Iris asked, sweeping her hair- which had grown long enough to brush against the tops of her shoulders- out of her eyes and grinning at him.

“I think… I’m just happy to see you.” 

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too, kid.” Cor released Iris’ shoulder and reached out to ruffle Prompto’s hair in the same way that Gladio always did. 

“And you look good, Prommy. You really do!” Iris exclaimed, her eyes lighting up again as she looked up at Cor questioningly. “You’re gonna ask, right?” she asked him.

“Iris!” Cor chuckled, running his hand across his forehead and perching on the edge of the bed. “It’s been a long journey. You gotta give an old man time to recover from these things, you know?”

“But… he looks well enough, doesn’t he? And you promised Gladdy.” Iris give Cor the same look she gave Gladio whenever she wanted something: lips pursed into the smallest pout, dark brown eyes wide and pleading as she gazed up, never being the first to break eye contact. She had Gladio wrapped around her little finger- it had been that way for as long as Prompto had known them both and it was easy to see why. And now it seemed like she had exactly the same effect on Cor. 

“He does,” Cor admitted, staring at Prompto with such intensity that he felt his cheeks burning as he fought the impulse to turn away. “I’ll ask tomorrow.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes again and sighed in complete and utter exhaustion.

“What… I don’t…” Prompto stuttered, his mind spinning with confusion. He was glad that Cor and Iris were here- he really was- but the conversation was moving too fast for him to keep up with and he’d been left with no idea what was going on. Cor was going to ask something… he’d understood that much. But what? And who was it that he was going to ask? He hoped it wasn’t him- he didn’t think he felt up to answering too many more questions today. His eyelids already felt heavy and he could feel his body shutting down…

“Cor’s gonna ask the doctor if you can come home with us!” Iris answered for him as if she’d read his mind. “Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah…” Prompto could feel himself slipping away, his mind already half asleep as he tried to force his brain to put together a sentence, some sort of explanation for how happy he felt, how grateful he was that they were here. “I’m…I…”  
He felt a hand on his arm, Cor’s rough, calloused palm pressing down against his cool skin.

“Get some rest, Prompto. I’ll speak to the doctor first thing tomorrow and then we can see about getting you out of here.” 

Prompto smiled softly as he began to drift off, his eyes closing involuntarily even as he tried to take in Cor’s words. He knew that tomorrow he would be going home. After all, it would take a very brave person to say ‘no’ to Cor the Immortal…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments and feedback are what motivate me to continue and are always appreciated!


	12. Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis is struggling without Prompto but, luckily, Gladio is around to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken a while to update! Had a busy couple of weeks with work and rehearsals and performances but things are finally calmer and I have time to write again :-)
> 
> I enjoyed writing this one but I can't wait for Prom and Iggy to be back together again. Hope you all enjoy <3

Ignis sat with his forehead pressed up against the window, his breath- warm enough to be visible against the cool air of the train carriage- clouding up the glass and fading into patterns that resembled a spiders web gleaming in the sun on a winter’s morning. 

To an observer, it would have appeared as if he were staring out of the window and simply admiring the view, taking in the beauty that passed them by. The train had taken them alongside the sea, following the line of the cliffs- water on one side of them and open land on the other. The sea was choppy, Gladio had told him, commenting with relief that he was glad it had been calmer on their journey back from Altissia. The waves came in as deep aquamarine, rolling in and breaking around the rocks in the shallows, their foam crests becoming chaotic lace over the blue. Later, as the sun set, they became golden, churning the sand on the shore as they scattered the light, the soft colours of the sky blending together and blurring the boundary between sky and sea until it was almost invisible.

As they travelled further inland, they passed rolling hills and open fields, the grass emerald-green and dotted with plants and flowers that Ignis had never seen before and now- to his disappointment and despair- never would. The scenery changed again, fields becoming dry deserts, flatter and more barren than before. But one thing was consistent. It was all beautiful. Or so he’d been told. He’d had to rely on Gladio to describe what was going on outside the train. To start with, Gladio had been reluctant to tell him, answering simply with none of the description that Ignis craved, that he knew Prompto would have given him. Now, though, he seemed to understand what Ignis wanted, what he needed, and every description was more vivid than the last with not a single detail left out.

Without his sight, Ignis felt lost, trapped in darkness with no idea what was going on around him. The dark glasses that he now wore each day without fail not only protected him from the cruel comments of his fellow passengers, who didn’t seem to understand that loudly commenting on his scars was hurtful and distressing, but also satiated the burning pain at the back of his eyes each time they caught the sunlight, every ray searing through his eyes and into his brain. With the glasses, the light no longer bothered him. Even the dark shadows that sometimes flitted disconcertingly in front of his vision had improved to the point that his mind no longer registered them. But the glasses didn’t fix the fact that he couldn’t see. Every morning when he opened his eye, he was faced only with darkness and, even after all these weeks, he still couldn’t quite get used to it. 

So Gladio had become his eyes, and Ignis was more grateful than he could express to have him there by his side, his constant chatter a reassuring presence even if he did sometimes choose to tune it out in favour of silent reflection. In Prompto’s absence, Ignis sometimes thought that if it hadn’t been for Gladio he would have fallen apart, slipped into a depression so deep he would never have been able to drag himself back out again. But, somehow, he managed to keep himself afloat in spite of everything, counting down the days to his return to Cape Caem, each passing hour one step closer to being back with his lover. 

“Everything okay, Iggy? You need anything?” Ignis was brought back to reality by a quiet voice behind him followed by a warm hand pressed against his back. Turning away from the window, he pushed his dark glasses up his nose, his fingers detecting what his eyes could not see: condensation steaming up the lenses, a thick fog to match the one on the window. He removed the glasses, wiping them against the hem of his shirt, though for what reason he wasn’t sure. Habit, perhaps? It wasn’t as though having clean lenses would improve his vision.

“Thank you, Gladio,” he replied, smiling in what he hoped was the direction of his friend. “But I have everything I need. You always make sure of that.” 

He slipped his glasses back on his face, suddenly aware of the hushed whispers coming from the seats behind them, their neighbours no doubt discussing his scars, making comments that Ignis wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with at the moment. He felt the warmth of his cheeks as his hands brushed against them and knew that they were flushed with embarrassment. Turning back to face the window, he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he reached up a hand, slipping a finger underneath his glasses to wipe them away. He’d always pretended that he didn’t care what other people thought of him, had prided himself in his ability to ignore the idle gossip that was always floating around the Citadel. But the truth was he did care. He cared far too much, and hearing people talk about him- about his appearance, no less- hurt more than he cared to admit.

Ignis felt Gladio’s hand against his back again and he swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. The whispers were still there and, though he was grateful he could only make out small snippets of conversation, the words that he could hear were harsh and hurtful causing his chest to tighten and his eyes to burn. It was almost as if people thought he’d asked for this, that it was his fault that he looked this way. He wanted to scream, to stand up and yell at them that he didn’t want to be like this, that he’d do anything to go back in time and change things. But he didn’t. He sat in silence, focussing in on the heat of Gladio’s palm against his shirt, the soothing movements of his fingers as they stroked his back. 

“Just ignore them,” Gladio whispered, moving his hand to Ignis arm and squeezing gently. “They’re idiots. They don’t have a fucking clue what they’re talking about. If they knew what you’d been through, they never…”

“But they don’t,” Ignis murmured, the words so quiet that Gladio had to lean forward to hear them. “They don’t and they never will. They’re simply judging based on what they see, as so many people do. It’s human nature, as you well know, and you can’t blame them for that.”

“I can and I fucking will!” Gladio’s voice was louder now and his words laced with anger, his hand letting go of Ignis’ arm and curling into a tight fist. “And, anyway, I disagree. To judge someone based on the way they look… well, it’s pathetic. They’re acting like children. Worse, actually, since they’re all old enough to know better. They should be ashamed of themselves.” Gladio paused, his breathing raspy and unsteady, almost a growl as it escaped his lips, each breath catching at the back of his throat.

An awkward silence hung in the air, the carriage now silent, the whispered insults vanishing into thin air. Even without his vision, Ignis could feel every person in the carriage staring at him, their eyes piercing right through him in a mixture of anger, disgust and confusion. 

“Gladio, please…” he began, reaching out to grab Gladio’s hand, prising apart the fist and slipping his own hand inside. He didn’t want this…this attention. In fact, there was nothing in the world he wanted less.

“But it isn’t right, Iggy.” Gladio spoke earnestly as he turned to face Ignis, his words quieter but spoken with no less passion. “They have no right to talk like that.” 

“I know.” Ignis took a deep breath. He knew Gladio was trying to help but, at this moment, all he wanted to do was forget about it, to curl up in his seat and become invisible. And what Gladio was doing, although done with the kindest of intentions, was only making him more conspicuous, like he was on show for everyone to stare at. “But I’m okay, I promise.”

“They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this.” Ignis felt Gladio’s hand close around his, his fingers reassuringly rubbing against the back of his knuckles. He was still angry- Ignis could tell by the edge that crept into his voice- but he was beginning to relax, sinking back into the chair and letting out a long, loud sigh.

“You know you don’t have to worry about me?”

“Who said anything about worrying?!” Gladio chuckled softly, the laughter finally causing some of the tension to disperse. “You sure you don’t want me to say anything to them, though? I’m pretty sure I could make it so that none of them ever bother you again…” There was a playfulness to his voice which, to someone who knew him less well, make it seem as if he was joking. Ignis, however, knew he was being deadly serious; he only had to say the word and Gladio would do everything in his power to protect him. 

He shook his head. “Please… I just want to forget about it.”

“Whatever you want, Iggy,” Gladio murmured. “Just looking out for you, that’s all.”

“And it’s appreciated.” Ignis smiled. “It’s always appreciated, you know that.” 

“You know what else might be appreciated?” Gladio pulled his hand out of Ignis’ grasp and slid something across the table, reaching for the hand he'd just released and wrapping it around a handle- hot but not unbearably so. “Managed to get you a coffee. It’s not Ebony, but the guy in the dining car said it’s the next best thing. Hope it’s still warm enough for you.”

Ignis smiled softly, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip. The man Gladio had bought it from had been right. It may not have been Ebony- no other coffee could quite match up to its perfect rich, bitter flavour- but it was pretty close and, after so many weeks without so much as a taste, it would do a great deal to satisfy his cravings. He rested his head back, a small sigh of pleasure escaping his lips as he clutched the mug in both hands, the warmth spreading through every inch of his body.

“That good, huh?” He could hear the amusement in Gladio’s voice, could picture the raised eyebrow as he watched him savour every last drop, but he didn’t care. With friends like Gladio by his side, he knew he could get through anything and despite his complaints, if Gladio wanted to protect him, he really wasn’t going to object…

********

It was near impossible to sleep on the train. Gladio had insisted he take the bottom bunk for obvious reasons but it felt cramped and claustrophobic, and his chest was tight as though there was too little air for him to breath comfortably. The fact that Noct was able to sleep soundly was unsurprising- he had always been a deep sleeper and, although he never complained, it was clear that he was still exhausted from the events in Altissia. What was more of a shock was the fact that Gladio, who Ignis knew had been suffering with insomnia in recent weeks, was also sleeping solidly, his gentle snores a constant irritation as Ignis lay awake staring into the darkness, his mind never stopping for long enough for him to drift off to sleep.

Ignis rolled on to his side, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping the thin cotton bedsheet more tightly around his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if it was actually cold or whether he was just exhausted from lack of sleep but he was definitely shivering and, more than ever, wished Prompto was lying next to him, the heat of his body warming up the bed. 

He may not have been able to see but every time he closed his eyes he pictured Prompto alone in the hospital, waiting for him to return to him. Ignis longed to lie down next to him and wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him close, pressing his head into his back and showering him with kisses as he promised him that everything would be okay. Although he supposed his promises didn’t exactly hold much weight anymore. He’d promised never to leave him and look how that had turned out. He knew Prompto understood why he’d done it- he even said he forgave him, that it didn’t matter. But Ignis wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself. At least he hadn’t been able to see his face when the truth dawned on him- that much had been a blessing- though the images that had flashed through his mind at that moment were punishment enough. 

A sudden jolt caused Ignis’ heart to skip a beat, his palms becoming clammy as they clutched at the sheet. He tried to steady his breathing, taking deep breaths in and out in the same way that he’d taught Prompto to do when he was on the verge of a panic attack, but it didn’t help. His heart thudded in his chest, each beat echoing so loudly in his own ears that Gladio’s snoring was drowned out completely. 

He knew that he was being ridiculous- these unexpected movements happened at least a couple of times a night. Almost certainly it was something non-consequential: a creature darting out in front of the train, perhaps, or a bit of debris on the track that needed to be shifted. The logical part of his brain knew all that but, since Altissia, there was something else, a part of him that always assumed the worst. A part of him that lived in constant fear. And, no matter what he tried, he didn’t seem to be able to shake the feeling that something terrible was just around the corner. His lack of vision didn’t help. It was like permanently living in a horror movie- there could be monsters lurking in the shadows, ready to jump out and attack at any moment, and he wouldn’t know until it was too late. How could he possibly protect Noct if he was unable to control his fear? How could he protect himself?

“Gladio?” 

The word seemed to echo in the darkness before fading to a breathy whisper. But although the initial volume had made Ignis flinch with surprise, there was no reply. Even the snoring had been replaced by lighter, quieter breathing, the noise that had once been such an irritant now sorely missed. The silence that filled the carriage in its place did nothing to help ease Ignis’ unease.

He stretched one arm up, hoping for some sort of human contact- something to make him feel less alone- but his fingers met only the rough, wooden rungs that lined the base of the top bunk. He ran his hand along each rung in turn until he reached the outer edge of the frame, allowing it to creep up further in search of Gladio’s arm. It took a few moments of feeling around in the darkness until he found an arm hanging loosely over the edge of the mattress. Wrapping his hand around it, he squeezed gently, the sensation of soft, smooth skin against his own the reassurance he had been looking for. 

“Iggy?” The name escaped Gladio’s lips as a hoarse whisper, surprisingly quiet and gentle for someone who had just been woken prematurely from a deep slumber. A rustle of sheets followed and the old, dry wood of the bed frame creaked ominously as Gladio turned onto his side, reaching across with his other arm to stroke Ignis’ hand.

Ignis closed his eyes, suddenly conscious of how fast his breathing still was. As he tuned in to Gladio’s touch, he tried to match each breath to the long, soft strokes against the back of his hand. “My apologies for waking you, Gladio. I’m…”

“Struggling to sleep again? Anything you wanna talk about?”

Ignis rested his head back against the pillow. There was so much he wanted to talk about, so many things he was desperate to share with Gladio- about how he was feeling, about what had happened in Altissia, about Noct’s future- but he just couldn’t. It was bad enough that he had to deal with this newfound knowledge himself without placing that burden on his friend too And besides, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the words to express himself even if for some inexplicable reason he suddenly had a complete change of heart. 

He heard Gladio sigh. “I wish you’d talk to me, Iggy, tell me what happened. I know you don’t want to, and I get it- really I do. But it might help.”

“I very much doubt that, Gladio.” Ignis ran his free hand over his eyes. They were burning again, the fire behind his closed eyelids hot enough to make him want to cry out in pain. He gritted his teeth and breathed deeply, ignoring the warm, salty trail of tears that spilled out of his right eye and snaked their way down his cheek. 

“You have to do something. You know you can’t go on like this forever.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about…” Tugging his hand away from Gladio’s arm, he twisted over onto his side and buried his face into the pillow. He knew Gladio was only trying to help but he couldn’t stop the frustration that was building inside him. Gladio didn’t understand what he was dealing with. Nobody did. All they saw was the blindness, the scars. The rest of it- the real pain- was hidden away, pushed down so deep under the surface that Ignis could feel it gnaw away at his insides more and more every day. There was nothing that could be done to make it go away, and Gladio pushing him to talk about it was only making it worse. 

“For fuck’s sake, Iggy- stop trying to push me away. You say you’re fine but… The lack of sleep? The panic attacks? The constant fear? I know it must have been fucking terrifying out there but you’re safe now. Anyone wants to hurt you again, it’ll have to be over my dead body- you understand that, right?”

“I’d prefer it we both got to stay alive, actually.”

Gladio let out another sigh and Ignis felt the mattress dip under his weight as he, presumably, sat up in bed. Ignis could picture him- brow furrowed as he ran his hands through his hair in the way he always did when he couldn’t understand something. He bit at his lower lip. He hadn’t been meaning to hurt anyone- that was the last thing he wanted- but it was easier like this. And if, as Gladio said, he was pushing him away, it was only because he was trying to protect him. 

“Why do you always do this?” Gladio’s voice was quiet and resigned with so much sadness behind his question that Ignis wanted nothing more than to open up and spill out everything he’d been hiding from him.

“Do what?”

“This! Making a joke out of things. This is serious.” There was a long pause broken only by a soft whimper as Noct stirred momentarily in the bed across the carriage. When Gladio spoke again, his voice had returned to a whisper and he spoke slowly, his voice shaking despite his attempts to keep it measured and controlled. “I’m worried about you, Iggy. Something happened out there- you could have died- and keeping it locked inside, it isn’t healthy. It’ll eat away at you ‘till there’s nothing left. You gotta trust me on this one. I’ve seen it happen. I know how this ends…”

“I thought you weren’t worried!” Ignis spat the words out, shocked by the callousness in his own voice. So much for not hurting people… Taking a deep breath, he tried again, forcing his irritation back down and hoping that his words were able to come out much calmer than he was really feeling. “Sorry. It’s just… I’m perfectly capable of dealing with this by myself.”

“I know. But you don’t have to. Please let me help.”

Ignis swallowed again. His throat was burning with the effort of holding back tears, as if they were lingering there just waiting for the right moment to pour out. His lower lip trembled and he bit down on it hard, the tangy, metallic taste of his own blood filling his mouth. He swept it away under his tongue and cleared his throat. “I can’t. Not now. Not yet.”

There was silence again, even more uncomfortable this time as though they were two strangers who had been forced to share a room, who had been making awkward conversation but had now run out of things to say.

“Gladio…” 

“It’s okay, Iggy. I understand.” Gladio cut him off mid-sentence and Ignis was grateful for it. He’d only spoken to break the tension that filled the carriage and, had Gladio not interrupted, wasn’t sure he’d have known how to finish what he’d started. “Later then,” Gladio continued. “But you have to talk about it at some point. You know I’m not gonna let this drop until you do.”

“Clearly…”

Gladio let out a soft chuckle and Ignis relaxed, releasing some of the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders and allowing his body to sink into the mattress.. Gladio was okay. _They_ were okay.

“Is there anything I can do now? Once we get to Cartanica, we’re not gonna have a lot of opportunities to rest for a while. It’ll be tough for all of us, and it’ll be damn near impossible for you if you’re already exhausted. There must be something we can do to get you some sleep.”

“There isn’t, unfortunately,” Ignis admitted, letting out a long sigh of frustration as he rolled onto his back. “I’ve tried everything. It appears sleep has abandoned me for the time being…”

Ignis had barely finished talking when the bed rocked from side to side, letting out a loud creak as it did so. A flurry of movement was followed by a quiet grunt, and then Gladio was there beside him, hand soothingly stroking damp hair away from his forehead as the sheets were adjusted. Another creak and Ignis felt an arm being wrapped tightly around his stomach as Gladio pressed himself against him, his chest warm and comforting as it rested firmly against his back.

“Bloody hell, Gladio! What on earth are you doing?” Ignis tried to roll over to face Gladio but he just held him more tightly, resting his head on his shoulder and running fingers through his hair. 

“Shhh…” Gladio soothed, a warm breath brushing across the back of Ignis neck as he spoke. “You’ll wake Noct, and you know what happened the last time you did that.”

Ignis felt the curve of Gladio’s mouth against his shoulder, and felt his own lips twitch into a matching smile at the memory. “I do, and I’d rather not have a repeat incident tonight if I can avoid it.”

They lay together in the silence, one of Gladio’s arms locked around Ignis’ stomach whilst the other hand stroked the back of his head. The embrace was far more intimate than any they had ever shared before but, strangely, felt completely natural and Ignis allowed himself to relax into it, revelling in the heat of Gladio’s skin against his own, their bodies separated only by a thin layer of cotton. 

“She’d kill me for telling you this,” Gladio murmured, “But when Iris was younger she used to suffer from the worst night terrors. Crying, screaming, lashing out- the full works. For a while sleep was a real challenge for her- she got so scared every time she tried to close her eyes. So when things got really bad I used to hold her like this until she managed to drift off. I know this isn’t the same but… if you don’t want…”

Gladio’s voice trailed off and he loosened his grip on Ignis, pulling away slightly as though giving Ignis the option to escape. Ignis felt around for one of Gladio’s hands and squeezed it, pulling it more tightly around his body and letting his own hand rest on top of it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, feeling his eyelids flicker and close, his mind relaxed and ready for sleep for the first time in a long time. 

“Any time, Iggy,” he heard Gladio reply as he began to drift off to sleep. “Any time…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are- as always- very much appreciated. Struggling with a lot of self doubt at the moment- desperately want to finish this but writing is a struggle. Your lovely comments are what make me believe this is worth continuing.


	13. Noct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they leave the hospital, Noct finds himself struggling with more than just being apart from Prompto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been such a long time since this was updated. It was rare pair week and then I just found myself really struggling with this chapter. The final three are already partly written, though, so they should be up pretty quickly now.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

If he'd have known how much of a struggle things would be once they reached Cartanica, he wasn’t sure he’d have been in such a hurry to leave the hospital. Not that they’d really had a choice. There was no way Gladio would have let him sit around and just let this happen, even if he’d wanted to. Every day now was noticeably shorter than the last, the sun rising later and setting earlier, ominous dark shadows forming a thick blanket which seemed to be trying to smother the last remaining glimmers of hope. Before long, the sun would be no more than a lingering memory. There would be only darkness- an endless night in which the daemons would be allowed to thrive, destroying and decimating Eos until there was nothing left to save. 

He wanted to believe he could be the one to stop all this, that he, somehow, had the ability to create a future where people felt safe and happy. He wanted to believe it but, deep down, he couldn’t help but feel hopeless. How could he possibly prevent something which seemed inevitable? How was he supposed to know what to do? Sometimes at night, whilst the others slept, he found himself crying, salty tracks of tears running silently down his cheeks and pooling at the opening of his sleeping bag, the material damp and uncomfortable as it pressed against his chest. Was it for Luna, who he hadn’t managed to save? For Ignis, whose life would never be the same again? For Prompto, who was lying alone and injured because of him? For his father, who’d spent his entire life protecting him? Or was he crying for himself, out of fear and loneliness, out of a need for somebody to help him? He was never quite sure what caused these outbursts but, regardless, by the time morning came his eyes were dry and he plodded onwards with a renewed sense of determination. In the end he needed to put his feelings to one side. It didn’t matter what he believed. Others believed in him, and for that reason alone he had to keep trying.

It wasn’t until they got off the train for the first time and found themselves out in the open, completely exposed and without the protection of the hospital walls, that the severity of the situation they were in truly hit him. If he’d felt unsafe before, that was nothing to how he felt now. He was constantly alert, jumping at the slightest sound, drawing his weapon at the tiniest rustle from the bushes. Gladio was still there by his side, sword now permanently in his hand and ready to protect him at any moment but, without Prompto, he felt much more vulnerable, and he knew the others felt the same. He’d never quite realised how much they’d relied on him, on his ability to scan a large area of land at lightning speed and spot anything that might pose even the smallest of threats- a talent not even Ignis, for all his strategical skills, possessed. Nor had any of them appreciated how much Prompto contributed in battle, his sharp shooting allowing them to take out an enemy at range with a single bullet to the head. 

Now their only option was to get close, sneaking up from behind and hitting with full force to dispatch the enemy as quickly as possible. Even warp striking was pretty much out of the question. Noct had tried not long after their arrival and had immediately regretted it. His body was still exhausted, and his attempt had left him feeling so drained they’d had to abandon their plans for the day and set up camp to allow him to recover enough strength to continue. Neither Gladio or Ignis had said a word about it, but they hadn’t needed to. Their faces told him everything he needed to know. This was going to be tough- tougher than any of them had realised- and if they were going to have any chance of success they needed to be much more careful.

Since then, he’d been sure to use magic only when completely necessary, leaving much of the fighting up to Gladio as he hung back to protect Ignis. With only the two of them able to fight, injuries were common place and their supply of potions was rapidly depleting. And it wasn’t as though they could just buy more. The hospital bills had used up the majority of their funds and, although Ignis was keen, hunting didn’t seem like the best plan at the moment. So their remaining potions were carefully rationed by Gladio, who handed them out only when an injury carried a risk of death. The others- the frequent scratches and grazes and puncture wounds? Well, they just had to deal with them, resting at camp until they felt well enough to set out again. 

Noct hated admitting when he was injured, especially when he watched everything Ignis was dealing with. _He_ seemed to be doing a good job of keeping up and hadn’t complained once, not even when it was clear his eyes were bothering him. The weather wasn’t helping- it was dry and warm during the day, and their footsteps disturbed the dust-covered ground whenever they moved. The wounds around Ignis’ eyes had quickly become itchy and swollen, forming a brown crust that, much to Ignis' dismay, Gladio had to help him clean each evening. Noct knew he’d never had the strongest stomach, but seeing Ignis like this- his injuries essentially Noct’s fault- was more than he could bear and he found himself retreating guiltily into the tent instead of helping, muttering some excuse or other about being exhausted. 

Not that it was really an excuse. He _was_ exhausted and his back was bothering him again, the shooting pain that caused his muscles to spasm defiantly getting more and more frequent. It was so bad now that some mornings when he attempted to get up, his body was stiff and unresponsive and he had to lie completely still for a few moments before he was able to move. 

Today was a particularly bad day. The stiffness had lasted longer than usual, far past the moment it usually subsided, and his foot was completely numb, the pins and needles spreading up through his calf muscle making every step a challenge. He’d somehow made it through a particularly strenuous battle by warp striking out of the way- an avoidance strategy more than a solution, but one that had worked nevertheless. It had caught Gladio’s attention though, and he’d interrogated him for long enough that he’d been forced to admit the pain he was in. He’d tried to insist he was fine to carry on but Gladio was having none of it, and had quickly navigated his way to a haven and begun to set up camp. Noct had whined and moaned all the way there but he was secretly grateful, and by the time they’d pitched the tent it was all he could do not to crawl straight into his sleeping bag and burst into tears.

“We should all get some rest while we can.” Ignis spoke softly as Gladio guided him towards a chair, helping him prop his cane up against it as he sat down so it leant reassuringly against his thigh. “The havens seem secure enough for now, but who knows how long that will be the case now that Luna…” His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat awkwardly, his fingers fiddling with the top of his cane as he looked down at the ground. Removing his glasses, he pinched the top of his nose in the same way he’d always done when he was frustrated. 

“It’s okay, Iggy.” Noct sighed, sitting down next to him and placing a hand on top of his arm. He noticed Ignis flinch in surprise at his touch but he didn’t pull away, turning his head to face him and giving a small, sad smile. Noct smiled back in an attempt to reassure him, forgetting for a moment that Ignis couldn’t see him anyway. If he wanted to be reassuring, he would have to do it with words- something that had never been his strong point. He swallowed and took a deep breath. “It’s about time I faced up to the truth- gods know I’ve tried to hide from it long enough.” Hesitating, he glanced up at Gladio who stared back, his expression hard yet unreadable. “You can say it. I promise I’m ok.” He could see the pain in Ignis’ eyes now he’d removed his glasses, and the sight of it caused his breath to catch at the back of his throat. He squeezed his arm gently, running his fingers over the silky material of his shirt, the familiarity of it strangely upsetting after everything that had happened. “I’m ok,” he said again, the words directed more at himself than at anyone else. 

“I don’t doubt that, Noct.” Ignis flashed another small smile, placing his other hand on top of Noct’s and wrapping his fingers around it. “But I want you to know you are well within your rights to feel saddened by Luna’s death. It would be more unusual if you weren’t.” 

“You’re doing good.” Gladio thrust a cup noodle towards him, raising one eyebrow questioningly when he shook his head in refusal. “Sure?” Noct shook his head again, more apologetically this time. There was no way he could even think about eating now. The pain was making him feel nauseous and his stomach lurched at the smell as Gladio waved the cup underneath his nose. He reached out a hand to push it away, swallowing hard as he attempted to ignore the churning going on inside him. “Tomorrow then. Eating is important, you know?” 

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Gladio sat down on the one remaining chair and slurped his own cup noodle as though it was the best thing he’d eaten in weeks…which, in fairness, it probably was. Ignis ate his too, though the expression on his face told Noct he wasn’t enjoying it in the slightest. They were all missing Ignis’ cooking, though none of them had said anything. What was there to say? He would be missing it more than the rest of them put together, and even the smallest comment would no doubt make him feel worse than he already did. So cup noodles were the only option, and until they could find something else they would just have to put up with it. Not that Gladio was complaining…

He finished eating and glanced up, his mouth twisting into a smile as he looked Noct up and down. “I meant what I said the other day, you know? I am proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Noct sniffed, running a hand through his hair as he attempted to smile back. He felt choked, an uncomfortable lump forming in the back of his throat as he fought back tears. His eyes stung but, somehow, remained dry and he cleared his throat awkwardly to break the silence. “That…uh… it means a lot.”

Gladio let out a deep chuckle as he clapped him on the back, ruffling his hair playfully and causing long, dark strands to form a veil covering his eyes. “Now rest, Sleeping Beauty.” He snorted with laughter as he caught Noct’s eye. “You certainly need your beauty sleep!”

“Says you!” he retorted, peering up through his bangs. He’d meant it as a joke but, as he looked at Gladio more closely, noticed for the first time just how run down he looked. His hair had grown longer so the front fell down over his eyes and the usually closely cropped sides were fuzzy and uneven. His eyes were sunken, the usual glowing amber now more of a dull brown, the red rims emphasised all the more by the black rings encircling them. Noct knew he rarely slept these days, taking his role as Shield more seriously than ever and spending his nights sitting at the entrance to the tent with his sword clutched in his hands, carefully watching over him and Ignis. And if his appearance was anything to go by, the lack of sleep was finally catching up on him. He looked exhausted, as though he was about to drop at any second. If anyone needed sleep it was him. “I don’t mind keeping watch for a while if… you know, if you wanna get a few hours sleep.”

“I’m not the one saving the world here, Princess.” This time Gladio’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and he sighed wearily, brushing his hair back from his face as he stared blankly at the ground. There it was again. A reminder- as if he could possibly need one- of how important he was now, of how crucial his wellbeing was. And if his survival came at the detriment of those he loved the most… well, so be it. 

“But…” Noct began, but even to his own ears his objections sounded half-hearted and it took nothing more than a quick shake of Gladio’s head to silence him. He watched as Gladio stood up and moved to throw his empty cup noodle away, each step slow and deliberate as though his muscles burned with every movement.

“Go. Sleep. We’ve got an early start.” Gladio turned to Ignis, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “You too, Iggy. I’ve got this.”

And Noct knew it was pointless trying to fight it. When Gladio decided on something, there was no changing his mind, especially when it came to matters of his safety. 

“Thanks.” He lingered outside the tent for a few moments, running his hand over the back of his neck. There was so much more he wanted to say but the words just weren’t there. All he could think about was the pain shooting through his leg- the rest of his thoughts were surrounded by a thick, hazy mist of tiredness which seemed to be stopping him from forming even a simple sentence. He opened his mouth to speak, hoping to at least force out something coherent to express how grateful he was, but nothing came out. All he could think about was sleep. He swallowed again, resting a hand against the tent to prop himself up, suddenly afraid his legs might collapse under him and send him tumbling to the floor. “Coming Iggy?”

“I’ll be there shortly, Noct.” Ignis’ glasses were perched on his knee now and his eyes were closed, his face upturned slightly so it looked like he was staring at the stars. He looked strangely peaceful as though the silence of the night, broken only by the occasional gust of wind rattling through the tent, was soothing to him.

“Ok.” Noct couldn’t help but grin as he watched Gladio sit down beside Ignis and wrap his arm round his shoulder, pulling him closer against his chest. Ignis relaxed into his grasp, resting his head against Gladio’s arm and murmuring softly. If there was any good that had come from all this, it was the fact his friends’ relationship seemed to be stronger than ever. “Well… Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” Gladio replied, watching closely as Noct made his way into the tent and climbed straight into his sleeping bag. Perhaps sleep was all he needed. Maybe in the morning the pain would be gone and he would feel renewed. Maybe he had the strength after all. And with his two friends looking out for him, he knew he had the best chance possible.

********

Noct awoke with a start, the skin around his swollen eyes tight and itchy. He’d been dreaming about Luna- he remembered that much. Not that it was really a dream- how could it be, when it was something that had happened in real life? It was like his mind was torturing him, replaying her death over and over, the details becoming clearer and more refined the more he saw it. He wasn’t even sure anymore if his dreams were telling him the truth, if the reality was as horrifying as the way it played out in his head. He hoped to the gods she’d had a more peaceful death than the one his mind had created for her…

He rolled over, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm his pounding heart and pulling up his sleeping bag around his chin. He tried to swallow but his mouth was so dry his tongue stuck to the roof of it and, as he cleared his throat, he realised it was parched and scratchy as though the lining had been replaced by the roughest sandpaper in Eos. Sighing to himself, he shifted position, tossing and turning as he tried to get comfortable. Eventually he gave up, dragging his body up into a seated position, brushing the tangles of dark hair away from his eyes and blinking into the darkness. The night was chilly, and he shivered despite the protection of the covers, but if he wanted to have any chance of drifting off again he needed water, and the only way of getting it was to leave the comfort of the tent and venture outside. 

Slipping out of his sleeping bag, he made his way towards the streak of moonlight which shone through the opening of the tent, the single, narrow beam not bright enough to fully illuminate the tent but sufficient to help him navigate the now familiar surroundings all the same. The night was quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional soft snore from Ignis and the chattering of his own teeth as his body adjusted to the cool night air. 

He paused to rub his arms briskly, noting with fascination the array of goosebumps which seemed to have sprung up as if by magic, completely covering his ice-cold skin. If Prompto had been there, he would have compared their arms, curious to see whether he had more goosebumps than Prompto had freckles! But Prompto wasn’t there, and thinking about his best friend made him feel sick, like there was something gnawing away at his stomach, getting closer and closer to bursting out with each second they were apart. So he tried not to think about him, focusing instead on weaving his way across the tent with silent steps, carefully avoiding brushing against Ignis, who continued to sleep peacefully through the rustling movement. 

As he passed by, he could hear Ignis snoring softly, his face less troubled in sleep than it was when he was awake, the gentle, rhythmic snorts soothing to Noct’s restless state. He was pleased to note Gladio was asleep too, propped up against the side of the tent, his sword laid loosely across his lap and his head resting against his chest. His brow was furrowed and his muscles tense, one fist still clenched around his sword as though he expected trouble to appear at any moment, but at least he was sleeping…

It wasn’t until he knelt down to unzip the tent that the pain in his back resurfaced, the sudden spike causing him to gasp out, pressing his palm down just above his pelvis in an attempt to alleviate the worst of it. He tried to stand, but his legs shook uncontrollably and he grasped at the side of the tent to steady himself. His chest was tight and he felt his breaths become more and more shallow until they were so faint he was sure he couldn’t be taking in any oxygen at all. As if to prove his point, black spots began dancing in front of his eyes as the tent started spinning, the whirling, dizzy sensation so disconcerting that he slammed his eyes shut, the pitch-black of the back of his eyelids far less threatening than the feeling of being on a never-ending carousel ride.

His knees buckled underneath him and he heard himself cry out, his hands flying up to protect his face as he fell forward. But the painful, heavy landing he’d been expecting never came. Instead he felt strong hands around his waist, lowering him down gently and pulling him into a tight embrace, a firm kiss placed on the top of his head as it was tucked under a stubbled chin.

“Shhh, Noct,” a voice whispered soothingly into his ear. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” The voice repeated the words over and over, hushing and comforting him through his sobs, hands brushing damp hair away from his clammy forehead and massaging the small of his back in tender yet firm movements. 

“Gladio.” Noct barely recognised his own voice, choked and muffled as he forced the word out. “You’re here…”

“Of course I’m here, Noct.” Gladio smiled down at him, his eyes full of concern as he wrapped his arms more tightly around him. “I’ll always be here. You should know that by now.”

“Because it’s your job, right?” Noct tried to smile back but, as another wave of pain swept over him, could only manage a slightly twisted grimace accompanied by a small moan.

“Hush now.” Fingertips were pressed against his back again, reaching up under his shirt and dancing delicately across his skin, searching for the point where the muscle was knotted and spasming. “This where the pain is?” Gladio looked at him questioningly, his fingers lingering over the surface of his back as he waited for a response. Noct nodded, biting his lip as he waited for the pain he knew would accompany any sort of physical contact. “You gotta try and relax. Tensing up like this is only gonna make it feel worse.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Gladio laid his palm flat, his fingers spreading out over Noct’s lower back. The pressure was light enough to be painless but firm enough that Noct could feel it, and he shivered slightly as the rough callouses on the tips of Gladio’s fingers brushed against the raised line of his scar. “I’m not gonna pretend I know what you’re feeling, but I’d like to help if I can.”

It was a question more than a statement, and Noct nodded again, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to relax against Gladio’s hand. Gladio's fingers moved expertly, massaging firm circles around the area, working out some of the tension as he encouraged the muscles to relax. 

“You’ve done this before?”

“Might have done,” Gladio smirked. His fingers were pressed more firmly into Noct’s back now, moving in strong, long strokes as they worked to lengthen the muscles, smoothing them down from top to bottom, the repetitive motion warm and comforting. He paused only occasionally to pay attention to a more stubborn knot, pressing gently at first so as not to cause any unnecessary pain but gradually become firmer as it loosened.

“Feels good,” Noct murmured, resting his cheek against Gladio’s warm chest, his mind fuzzy and his eyelids drooping as he drifted towards sleep.

“Good,” Gladio chuckled, sliding his hand out from underneath Noct’s shirt and pulling the hem down to cover his back. He felt one hand slip under his knees and, before he realised what was happening, was lifted up in one single, fluid movement. “Now you need to rest, Noct. Don’t worry. I’m here.” Gladio lowered him down into his sleeping bag, crouching down beside him as he zipped it up and tucked it under his chin. “And just so you know… even if it wasn’t my job, I’d still always be here.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend. And friends always protect each other, right?”

“Right.” As his body fell into an exhausted sleep, Gladio’s words echoed in his mind. He was right- friends should always protect each other- and that’s why he was determined to succeed in his task. Yes, saving Eos was important- of course it was. But Ignis. Prompto. Gladio. Saving them was the most important thing of all. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and feedback are appreciated and motivate me to write faster!
> 
>  
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/)


	14. Gladio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Gladio watches Ignis struggle without Prompto, he knows he has to do something. But how can he help when Ignis keeps pushing everyone away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to update. I was lucky enough to be able to spend the summer volunteering in Nepal so didn't have much time to write.
> 
> Also, this fic is my baby and I just want it to be perfect.
> 
> Two chapters to go now... and I'm determined not to leave it this long before another update.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is sticking with this. Your support means everything <3

“You don’t need to hold back, you know?” 

“Huh?” Gladio ran the back of his hand across his forehead before wiping it against his already filthy shirt, eager to get rid of the mixture of dirt and salty sweat which now clung to his skin, the sensation more and more unpleasant with each passing day. It was unbearably hot even in the absence of sunlight and the air felt heavy as though it was pressing against him with enough force to eventually suffocate him. 

“If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

The words themselves were innocent enough- a simple statement that, had he been feeling a little more like himself, might have been brushed aside with a snigger of laughter, a flippant comment, some joke to help lift his friend out of his slump. But he wasn’t feeling like himself these days. None of them were. And besides, the words were spat out with such venom, the snarl behind them so uncharacteristically menacing that Gladio felt himself practically recoil, a lump forming in his throat that almost forced him into silence. 

“Look, Iggy,” Gladio sighed, brushing back his hair and lifting it away from his neck, grateful for the slight draft of air against his damp skin. “Let’s not do this. I’m tired- we both are- and an argument is the last thing we need right now.” He twisted his hair into a knot on the top of his head, groaning in frustration as a few loose strands drifted back down over his ears and forehead. 

It was true that the tiredness probably wasn’t helping things. He wasn’t even sure how long it had been since he’d last slept- three days maybe? With the sun’s absence growing more and more prolonged it was near impossible to tell where one day ended and the next began. All he knew was that he felt completely exhausted to the point he wasn’t sure how much further his body could carry him before it gave way and collapsed underneath him, his legs refusing to take another step.

He lifted his head from his his chest just enough to peer up at Ignis through the darkness, his face deathly pale against the soft glow of the campfire, the red stain of his scar burning brighter than the flames. His shoulders were hunched and his cheeks sunken, the dark circles under his eyes- the ones matching Gladio’s own- no longer hidden by his dark glasses. He’d given up wearing them over a week ago now. _“What’s the point?”_ he’d said. _“It’s not as though there’s enough sunlight to hurt my eyes now…”_

Gladio sighed again, reaching back to kneed the top of his spine with his fingers. His head was throbbing now, the migraine that had been threatening to strike all day growing ever closer, the burning sensation behind his eyes forcing them shut. How could things have gotten so bad so quickly? Why hadn’t he seen this coming? He’d been so worried about Noct that he hadn’t noticed Ignis deteriorating until it had been too late. Maybe if he had, things wouldn’t have got to this point.

He leant his head against the rock he’d propped himself up against, the stone pleasantly cool against the back of his scalp. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but, with the havens beginning to feel less and less safe, he was happy to take any rest he could get. And it was quiet now at least, a welcome break from the screeching and howling daemons they seemed to encounter around every corner. As he settled into the silence he found himself longing for the dusty, rocky plains of Cartanica. Not for the place itself- or the horrors they’d had to deal with there- but for the moments he’d spent with his friends.

Things had been different then. Better. They’d managed somehow- in spite of the lack of sleep. Pushing each other forward, sharing a joke, the smiles they shot each other slightly strained but real nevertheless. They’d all felt positive about the future. But then… in Cartanica they’d had a job to do, and a challenging one at that, every day a battle they weren’t sure they’d come out the other side of. It had been hard and Gladio had never felt so tired in his life, every muscle in his body burning and aching, his bones creaking with exhaustion as he lifted his sword, which had seemed to weigh at least twice as much as it usually did. But in the grand scheme of things that hadn’t mattered as long as Ignis and Noct were safe and happy. Which they were in a way. They’d had a purpose, an end goal, and that pushed them forward regardless of how they were feeling. Yes, there was no denying it had been hard, but at least they’d been busy. Too busy to stop and think, their minds occupied by too many things to worry about the future. Too busy to miss what they’d left behind. And when they’d camped Ignis had slept soundly, his nights dream free and peaceful, his mind and body more relaxed than Gladio had seen in a long time. 

It wasn’t so long ago that Ignis had been doing well- on the surface of it all at least. If Gladio hadn’t been watching him so carefully, looking for the smallest indication his friend was struggling, he probably wouldn’t have realised there was anything wrong at all. There was no breakdown, no crying or screaming, no moping around unable to go about his daily business. In fact in some ways his days seemed to be even more productive than usual as he’d fought to get stronger, spending every waking hour working to regain everything his injury had robbed him of. And he’d been doing a good job, too. It had been reassuring to watch him relearn how to look after himself, his confidence growing with every swing of his dagger, with every battle they won. 

He thought back, his migraine intensifying as he rummaged through his memories for something that might have alerted him to how much Ignis had been suffering. A clue to how much he’d needed his help. Something. Anything. Even with the benefit of hindsight he was sure there’d been no obvious signs, nothing he’d missed. Nothing to outwardly give away how much he’d lost. But then again… this was Ignis. His best friend. Gladio should have known he’d be bottling it all up inside, letting it bubble away until he exploded in a fit of depression and despair. But instead he’d stood on the sidelines, a silent spectator as he watched the subtle changes, an almost imperceptible shift in his personality. A quiet mourning as though someone had died. Which they had, of course, but Gladio knew it wasn’t for Luna that Ignis mourned. It was for Prompto, who he missed having by his side- his armour and his comfort as the days got darker. Now he was stripped of his armour, and it showed. Not to everyone, maybe. But to Gladio, who knew him better than anyone else, it grew more and more obvious with each day that passed. 

Gladio shifted position, his bare shoulders grazing against the jagged edge of the rock as he tried to find a more comfortable position. His forehead wrinkled in frustration. What sort of a shield was he if he couldn’t even see how much his best friend was struggling? How could he ever have expected a man who thought he’d lost everything to maintain control? Even Ignis couldn’t manage that…

Even at the time, he’d wanted to stay in Cartanica, delaying their departure until Noct had practically begged him to leave. Gladio snorted at the memory, quickly forcing the sound back down as Ignis drew in a tight breath, the whistle of the air as he sucked it between his teeth enough for Gladio to know that it wasn’t time for laughter. But how times had changed. Noct was growing up at last. He’d been so eager to move forward, so determined to continue, to stick to their plan.

As soon as they’d got back on the train though, another long monotonous journey stretching out ahead of them, the atmosphere had changed. There were no distractions anymore, no battles to keep their minds off what had happened. There was only time to think… and it was very clear what Ignis spent his days thinking about. His nights too, come to think of it, since the insomnia had returned. Even when he did collapse with exhaustion, his sleep was disturbed by nightmares, and on too many occasions Gladio had found himself on the lower bunk with his arms wrapped around his friend, whispering soothingly into his ear as he sobbed silently against his chest. 

The nightmares had continued almost every evening since then, though it wasn’t the nightmares Gladio found so worrying. They were nothing new and, although it still hurt him to watch his friend tremble violently, gasping for breath as he recalled the events of his dreams through choked breaths, he’d come to accept them. What concerned him more was the way Ignis was acting during the day, the vacant expression that clouded his face as he stared blankly out of the window, rarely responding even when Gladio questioned him directly. He still ate- though it was out of necessity rather than enjoyment, the process purely mechanical as though he was a robot commanded to feed himself. He seemed empty, a shell of his former self, his thoughts constantly occupied by something so all-consuming that- try as he might- Gladio just couldn’t seem to break through. 

And now there was this. Anger. Frustration- all too evident each time Ignis spoke. The way he lashed out at anyone who dared to speak to him, the tension in his voice a million miles from his usual cool, calm persona. 

Gladio forced his eyes open, drawing in a deep breath as the unwelcome blurry edges and flashes of light that often accompanied his migraines came into view. The right side of his head was pulsating as though someone was attacking it with a hammer from within, banging it against his skull as they tried to get out, and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and shut out the world around him. He blinked slowly, trying to clear his vision enough to focus on his friend. Nothing about the man sitting in front of him seemed familiar and he stared at him as though he was looking at a stranger, his lifelong best friend reduced to nothing more than a memory, a thing of past like so many other things in his life. His mother. His father. Luna. King Regis. All gone. And now Ignis- or at least the Ignis he knew- seemed to be well on his way to joining them. Unless he could do something to stop it. 

“Iggy?” 

“What?” He sounded tired, as though even speaking was becoming too much of an effort, and the hopelessness in his voice made Gladio want to cry out, to implore the Gods to help him save his friend from whatever was going on inside his head. 

“Let me help you, Iggy. Tell me what to do. Please. There must be something I can do to help, to make things better for you.” 

He heard his voice begin to shake and he swallowed, blinking away the tears that were welling up in the corners of his eyes. It was such a strange sensation to feel the damp, salty moisture form a film over his eyes, the blurriness spreading across his whole vision now, making it feel as though he was looking at things through an unwashed window. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. He remembered when they’d first arrived at the hospital, when Prompto had been so close to death and he hadn’t known what to do. He’d wanted to cry then. He’d probably needed to cry. But instead he’d felt empty, incapable of letting out the emotion that seemed to build up inside him. He’d allowed himself to get angry- he remembered that much. But crying… well that had eluded him yet again. Even when he’d learnt of his father’s death, he hadn’t shed a single tear. Iris had sobbed and screamed and broken down the first night they’d spent together in Lestallum but he’d just felt numb, a painful, empty feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as he thought about everything he’d lost. But now here he was, on the verge of tears. And he wasn’t even sure he knew why.

“You’re my best friend, Iggy. I’m worried about you. Please let me…”

Ignis cut him off with a loud snort of laughter, his lips curved into a dull smirk that complemented the blank stare of his glassy eyes as he glared in Gladio’s direction. “Are you in possession of a time machine, Gladiolus?” 

“Huh? I don’t…”

“Who would have thought that a single defenceless blind man would be able to render the great Gladiolus Amicitia completely speechless?” He blinked up at Gladio, the rims of his own eyes lined with moisture as he clambered to his feet, feeling around next to the rock he had been perched on for his cane. “Damn…” he muttered, his hand missing the metal handle by several inches. 

He slammed his fist down in frustration, the skin of his knuckles snagging painfully against the rough stone surface. He brought his injured hand up to his chest and cradled it against him, painfully unaware of the dull red streaks that now adorned his grey shirt. He was trembling, and all Gladio wanted was to wrap his arms around him and embrace him as he cried. But this wasn’t the Ignis Scientia he knew. This was someone different. Someone with more anger than Gladio knew how to deal with. 

“Iggy?” Gladio barely recognised his own voice, so small and weak as he spoke his friend’s name.

“I’m fine, Gladio.”

“Here, let me…” Gladio forced down the overwhelming sense of uncertainty he was feeling as he darted forward to press his hand against Ignis’ shoulder. He ran his fingers softly down his arm and towards his fist which was still clenched tightly, the bright white skin of the back of his hand a stark contrast to the sticky crimson trail running towards his wrist. 

“Don’t.” Ignis twisted away, tugging his hand out of Gladio’s grasp and covering the grazed knuckles with the cuff of his jacket. “Leave me alone, Gladio.”

Gladio watched helplessly as he shuffled away, his cane clutched tightly in his hand, each step so small, so hesitant as he tried to navigate his way through the unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Oh, and Gladio?” He turned around, his cheeks streaked with dried tears that glistened with a pink hue as they reflected the dying embers of the fire. “Can you bring back Luna? Can you make Prompto better? Can you give me back my eyes?” Gladio could see fresh tears now, a river of amber running down his cheeks and dripping from his chin. “If you can’t do that, then there is nothing you can do to help me.”

Gladio stared for a few moments longer, his eyes locked on Ignis as he continued to walk away, holding his breath as he waited for him to reach the tent safely and clamber inside. It was only when he was convinced his friend was safe that he allowed his eyes to drift close, the throbbing that punctuated his every thought growing stronger by the minute. Ignis was right. He couldn’t change the past. But there had to be something he could do, and the more Ignis tried to push him away, the more determined he was to help him. He was the Shield after all. And it was time he started protecting more than just his king…

********

“Brrring, brrring…. Brrring, brrring.”

The sudden rings from the phone sounded like gunshots, jarring Gladio out of a deep, dreamless sleep. His heart pounded in his chest as his arm lashed out wildly, his elbow slamming against a particularly sharp shard of rock. 

“For fucks sake” he murmured under his breath, rubbing furiously at his arm. Quickly silencing the phone, he glanced over at the tent in the hope that somehow, despite all the noise, his friends were still sleeping. Good. There was no sign of movement, no rustle of material that might indicate one of them had been woken. He scanned the rest of the area, his eyes squinting into the dark shadows the lingered in the distance, exploring every inch of grass and rock in his sight as he searched for daemons. They were eager for blood these days, it seemed, and any noise often seemed to draw hoards of them closer. He climbed to his feet, holding his breath as he listened carefully. Thank the gods. It was silent, and silent meant safe. For now at least.

He looked at his phone, his eyes still burning from the remnants of his migraine, soothed by sleep but still there and looking for any excuse to reemerge with a vengeance. “Shit,” he muttered, drawing in a breath and running a hand through the back of his hair, clumps of which had worked their way loose of the scruffy knot he’d tied earlier that night. 5.20am. Four hours. He’d been asleep for four whole hours. How could he have let himself fall asleep? Anything could have happened. They could have been attacked by demons… or worse. People were getting desperate and, as he’d learnt from experience, he’d rather fight a whole hoard of daemons than have to stand up to a single desperate person any day. 

Gladio made his way towards the tent, his mouth and throat dry and hands trembling as he lifted the flap and peered inside. If anything had happened to them, he’d never forgive himself. He stared into the darkness, his eyes adjusting quickly enough for him to make out the outlines of two figures snuggled together in the corner. Noct had pulled the sleeping bag up around his head and had one arm draped loosely over Ignis’ chest as they slept, the occasional snore from Ignis and whimper from Noct as he dreamt enough to reassure Gladio that they were still sleeping rather than dead. 

He sighed deeply, letting the flap fall back down into place and stepping away from the tent. They were still safe. Nothing bad had happened. And he had to admit- he _had_ needed the sleep. His head was already lighter and his muscles freer and, now he was more awake, his thoughts felt less muddled than they had in weeks. Perhaps Noct was right- he needed to look after himself if he wanted to do a good job at looking after him. And Iggy too. He was going to do a better job at looking after all of them. 

“Brrring, brrring…. Brrring, brrring.”

“Shit…” Gladio fumbled in his pocket, quickly drawing out his phone and glancing at the name glowing on the screen. Iris. He remembered now. He’d tried to phone last night to find out how Prompto was getting on. If all had gone to plan, he’d be in Cape Caem now. He’d be recovering. And that would be just what Ignis needed to hear. If anyone could help find the old Ignis and drag him back up to surface, it was Prompto. 

“Gladio?” A voice came from inside the tent, quiet and slurred as though not quite awake.

Gladio cancelled the call again, lifting the flap of the tent to whisper inside. “Don’t worry, Noct. I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?” He saw Noct pull himself up and rub his eyes before blinking into the darkness, his wide eyes partially covered by long, black bangs. Gladio couldn’t help but smile to himself. It was so easy to forget sometimes how young he was, how much he’d had to deal with during his short life. But seeing him like this, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, it was blatantly obvious. He wasn’t much more than a child, yet he was so determined to do the right thing, to fulfil the destiny that had been laid out ahead of him. Gladio wished he could take it from him, could give him the childhood he’d missed out on. But this was the way it had to be. And if Noct was brave enough to face it, then Gladio had to do the same.

“Early,” Gladio replied. “Get some more sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“‘K.” Noct slid back down into his sleeping bag, shuffling closer to Ignis and burying his face in his back.

Gladio watched for a few moments until he was satisfied Noct was sleeping before tiptoeing away and settling himself down next to last night’s campfire, now no more than a sad collection of blackened leaves and twigs. He took out his phone, running his fingers over the background photo that adorned his screen. It was a photo of him, Iris, his dad and Ignis. Prompto had taken it a couple of months before they’d left for Altissia, and they all looked so happy. He knew something funny had happened just before it had been taken- though he couldn’t quite remember what. Iris was laughing, her eyes closed and the side of her cheek pressed into Ignis’ shoulder. His father was looking at her in amusement, the twinkle in his eye clear even in photographic form. He had his arm wrapped tightly around Gladio, who was smiling directly at the camera. Even Ignis, who rarely smiled in photographs, was grinning as he looked down at Iris. It was a perfect moment captured in a perfect picture. 

He knew things could never go back to the way there were then- too much had changed for that. But they could be happy again. They _would_ be happy again. And if he could just get Ignis talking to Prompto, that would be a start.

********

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Gladio cleared his throat as he pressed the phone against his ear, spirits immediately raised by the sound of his sister’s voice. “It’s me.”

“Gladiolus Amicitia…” Oops. If Iris was using his full name, he knew he was in trouble. “Why didn’t you answer my calls. Five times. I called you _five times!_ And no answer. I thought you were dead. I was about to get Cor to come out there and look for your dead body so I could bury you. But if you think I’m ever crying over your remains now, you’ve got another thing…”

“Hey little sis.” Gladio chuckled. Some things never change. Always the drama queen.

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me!” Iris was giggling too now, the angry facade cracking to give way to a much lighter tone. “Seriously though… not fair, Gladdy. I was worried.” And suddenly her voice was serious again, a bleak reminder that she, too, had lost far too many people to joke about death. 

“Sorry, Iris,” Gladio muttered, running his hand across his forehead. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m fine. I promise.” 

A pang of guilt shot through his chest and he grimaced, gripping the phone ever more tightly as he thought about his sister. He’d let her down far on far too many occasions recently, or at least he hadn’t been there when she’d needed him. She’d had to deal with their father’s death on her own on top of coping with whatever horrors she must have seen in Insomnia. She hadn’t spoken about it but she hadn’t needed to. The look on her face that first time he’d seen her in Lestallum had told him all he needed to know. She’d smiled- of course she had- but there was a new sadness behind her eyes which had broken his heart. Yes, she’d got out (though he hadn’t yet had time to ask her how) but the things she must have seen… well, it didn’t bear thinking about. 

“I know.” Her voice was small and uncertain, and the words were followed by a tiny, sad sniff. “I just… You spend so much time looking after other people. I know you’d always put them first, even if it meant you getting hurt. I don’t want to lose you, Gladdy. Please promise me you’ll stay safe.” She spoke slowly, choosing each word carefully as though she was afraid of what she might say, of the outburst that might pour out if she let herself open up. 

“I promise. I already promised.” He tried to sound sincere. The last thing he wanted was to give her yet another thing to worry about but he knew she was right. He would put the others before himself. But he hadn’t ever thought about what him getting hurt might do to Iris. He’d never once thought about how it might affect her, how it might be the one thing that finally broke her. 

“I know but… I know you’re the Shield, and I know you wanna make dad proud.” She sniffed again, her voice trailing off at the mention of their father. She swallowed and started again, suddenly sounding more confident, more determined- speaking in that same way she always did when she wanted to get her own way. “But you’ve got to look after me too, you know?”

“I know. And I will.” He heard Iris sigh happily at the other end of the phone, her lips parting into a smile at his reassurance. He smiled too at the thought of seeing her. “I’ll be back soon, and then you’re gonna get so much looking after you won’t know what hit you.”

“Not if I get to look after you first!” She sniggered, the tone of her voice now matching the playfulness of her words.

“Can’t wait…” 

They both paused, and Gladio closed his eyes as he listened to Iris breathing on the other end of the phone. He tried to picture her lying on her bed- on her stomach probably- her legs crossed in the air as she propped herself up on her elbows. 

“You called last night? Sorry I missed your call. I guess I must have been asleep. But I called back as soon as I woke up!”

“Yeah… sorry for calling so late. Things got…” He hesitated, unsure how much to tell her, eventually settling on the bare minimum. She didn’t need to know all the details. She had more than enough to think about without worrying about Ignis too. “Well… Iggy’s not doing so well. I was hoping maybe Prom was doing better? You’re all in Cape Caem now?” 

“Yep. Safe and sound!” She giggled again, her voice taking on her usual singsong manner that was in equal parts endearing and irritating. “You know what Cor’s like- no time wasted. He got Prom out of the hospital pretty quickly and we headed straight back here.”

“How’s he doing? Honestly…”

“Prom? He’s doing well- managing to stay pretty cheerful considering everything. He’s not walking yet, but Cor said he’s gonna start helping him with that. He’s already given him some exercises to get his leg muscles stronger, and with Cor on the case I bet he’ll be out of that wheelchair in no time! His speech is good too- like, he speaks a little slowly still but other than that you can barely tell there was anything wrong. It’s so good to have him here, Gladdy.” 

“Think he’d be okay to speak to Iggy? I think it’d help a lot.”

“Do I think he’d be okay?? Gladdy- you know he’d love that.” She paused as though she was thinking how to continue. “I think… I know he misses him a lot. He misses you all.”

“Yeah… I miss him too.” Gladio ran his hand through the lose strands of hair hair, twisting them around his fingers and brushing them back over his shoulder. “We all do.” He paused to compose himself, suddenly aware of a quiver in his voice that hadn’t been there before. There was a knot in the pit of his stomach which seemed to twist and tighten at the thought of Prompto alone in Cape Caem. He couldn’t help but think maybe they’d made the wrong decision to leave him behind. If they’d just waited a little longer, perhaps they could have all left together, and if they’d left together, he was almost certain Ignis wouldn’t be feeling so despondent. If only he hadn’t been so impatient… He took a deep breath, letting it out a bit at a time, and when he spoke again he was glad to hear his voice sound stronger and more in control. “But I’m glad he’s getting better.”

“He really is. I bet he’ll be walking by the time you guys get back here.”

“That’s great, Iris. Really great.” If the knowledge that Prompto was getting better, that he might even be walking again soon didn’t boost Ignis’ spirits, he really had no idea what to do to help. 

Gladio glanced up, surprised to see the first orange hued rays of sunlight sneak above the horizon, kissing the shadows with its soft rays of warmth. Things always seemed less bleak in the daylight, the once stale air suddenly fresh and new, the ribbons of golden sunlight spilling down from the sky bringing with them a splash of hope. He looked at the clock on his phone. 6:15am. Still too early to wake Ignis. Definitely too early for Iris to wake Prompto, who needed all the sleep he could get if he wanted to continue his recovery. “Should I call again later? I’d love to speak to him too…”

“Yep. I’ll let him know. He’ll be really excited!” 

“Great. Speak later, little sis. And thanks.”

“Speak later. Love you.”

The line went dead before Gladio could even reply. He grinned to himself, shaking his head as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. _Love you._ They’d ended every phone conversation in the same way since Iris had been very young. Gladio had always thought she’d grow out of it as she got older but it warmed his heart that she still insisted on saying the same words every time they spoke, no matter who was around to hear them. 

He stretched his legs out in front of him, resting back on his elbows as he stared up at the sky. The sky was blood red, the furrowed clouds that had been hanging ominously just above the trees now every shade from palest pink to deep crimson, a thousand times less threatening than they had been the night before. Dawn was breaking and, for now at least, night became day and shadows became light. As long as there was sunlight, there was still hope. For Eos. For Noct. And for Ignis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and feedback are very appreciated.
> 
> [Come and chat on tumblr](https://butterfly-girl86.tumblr.com/). I'm friendly and I love talking about these lovely boys.


	15. Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is struggling with his recovery, but Iris and Cor are determined to help him get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so long- I managed to edit a lot out of this chapter but didn't want to take out any more.
> 
> I have my motivation back so it shouldn't be long until the next (and final chapter) is ready to post. Thank you to all those who have stuck with this and who are continuing to support- it means so much to me. I'm a little sad to be nearing the end but I'm going to make sure these boys get their happy(ish) ending.

“Prompto?”

He awoke to a voice, low and calm as it spoke his name, and he blinked into the darkness, his eyelids still heavy and drooping as he tried unsuccessfully to focus on his surroundings. A tiny glimmer of light was creeping in through a gap in the curtains but it was dull, the faint amber glow not nearly enough to illuminate the room. And besides, without his glasses things were blurry anyway, as though he was looking at things through a particularly hazy camera lens. He’d used a filter that had that effect once- a long time ago, before he’d even left Insomnia- but he hadn’t been able to get used to it. The man who’d sold it to him had promised it’d soften the edges of his photos, giving them the effect of being taken in the early morning light of a warm summer’s day. But instead it’d just made everything look unfocused, like he hadn’t been able to keep his hand steady as he snapped the shutter closed. He’d only used it once or twice before giving up and returning to his usual lens.

The lack of focus was equally disconcerting now, and he closed his eyes tightly as he pressed the side of his head into the mound of thick, fluffy pillows underneath it, snuggling deeply into the blankets and pulling them more tightly around him with one hand until he was well and truly cocooned. 

In the hospital, he’d struggled to sleep without Ignis by his side, the crisp, cotton sheets of the hospital bed cold and uninviting. If it hadn’t been for the medication the doctors gave him to control the pain, he probably wouldn’t have slept at all, tossing and turning all night long as he tried to get comfortable. But it was different here. It was comfortable, the heat of the blanket as it pressed down heavily on his body easing the ache that so often saturated his muscles, causing them to burn and twitch and tremble despite his determination to take back control of them. The blankets were soft and padded as he cuddled them to him, the soothing comfort helping to fill the all too conspicuous hole that Ignis had left behind.

It was pleasant enough that he was able to forget sometimes when he lay in bed in the morning, not quite awake but not asleep either. He could forget when he sat out in the garden, eyes closed and face upturned to the sun, revelling in the warmth of the last dwindling rays as they beat down against his skin. He could even forget as he relaxed into the welcome silence of the early evening, interrupted only by a bird’s tuneful melody as it headed to bed or the breaking of a particularly fierce wave as it crashed into the rocky shoreline. On a couple of occasions Cor had helped lower him down onto the beach, helping him stretch his legs out in front of him. It was especially easy to forget then, as he buried his feet in the sand, savouring the sensation of rough, golden grains as they rubbed against the soles of his feet and between his toes. At times like these it was easy to forget that Luna was dead. That Ignis was blind. That Noct was gone. It was so easy to forget that he couldn’t walk.

It was easy yet, at the same time, so difficult.

No matter how much he wanted to prolong the times his mind was relaxed enough to drift into the past, grabbing onto memories and letting them play out as though they had been captured on reels of video tape, he couldn’t hold on to them forever. The present always forced its way back in- and when it did, it hit hard, the reality a ferocious tsunami flooding his mind and body until they were both completely submerged, helplessly flailing away as they tried to adapt to his new life.

Mornings were the worst of all. His muscles were the most uncooperative then, refusing to obey even simple commands until _they_ were ready- as though they were in charge of him rather than the other way around. Cor kept telling him that it would get easier, that it wouldn’t be like this forever, and he wanted to believe it- he really did. But every morning felt like a step backwards, his body back to that helpless state it had been when he’d first woken up in the hospital. And he hated it. He really hated it.

Which is why he’d taken to sleeping late, burying himself in the blankets and letting his mind drift through memories and dreams as his body adapted to being awake, each limb gradually regaining painful movement until he felt strong enough to sit up by himself. But today was different. Today he had to train with Cor, and no matter how much he tried to get out of it he knew he couldn’t put it off forever. The truth was he’d slept late on purpose, though he’d never tell Cor that. He was terrified of trying to walk again. The last time he’d tried, it hadn’t gone particularly well and he’d ended up crying in frustration when his legs had been unable to support his weight. Sure, he took a few steps every day, moving from his wheelchair to the bed or to the kitchen table. But these movements were always fully supported by Cor, an arm around his waist to make sure he couldn’t fall. The training was different. He knew he’d have to try on his own, would have to force himself to drag each foot across the floor in turn, movements embarrassingly slow and unstable even with the support of the walker the hospital had provided for him.

“I don’t want to do this today, Cor,” he murmured, turning over onto his side and wrapping his arms around his chest. 

“It’s not about what you want, Prompto. The hospital put me in charge of your therapy and I’m going to make damn sure I do a good job.” Cor sat down next to him, slipping a hand behind his head and lifting it gently off the pillow. “Water?”

“Thanks…” Prompto took the glass gratefully, taking small sips to soothe his dry mouth and throat. “But what if I can’t…”

“You can and you will.” Cor took the empty glass and placed it down on the table next to the bed before helping Prompto sit up and handing him his glasses. “Look, Prom. I’m going to be honest with you. This isn’t gonna be easy. In fact, it’s gonna be the hardest fucking thing you’ve ever done. But I know you, and I know you’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge. People have been telling you you can’t do things all your fucking life but you’ve done them anyway. Don’t make this the one time you start doubting yourself.”

“It’s just…” Prompto bit his bottom lip and looked away, fiddling nervously with the frayed edge of one of the blankets, picking apart the strands and twirling them around his little finger. “Everyone believes I can do it- what if I just end up letting them all down?” He looked up, releasing the blanket to slide his glasses onto his face, blinking as the room came into focus as if by magic. “What if I let you down?”

Cor chuckled, running his hands through his hair as he smiled down at Prompto. “Everyone believes in you for a reason, Prom. You’ve always been stronger than you’ve given yourself credit for.” Climbing to his feet, he leant across the grab the glass, a determined expression on his face as he straightened back up. He glanced towards the clothing he’d helped Prompto to set out the night before, folded neatly within arms reach of the bed. “Now… you need help getting dressed or can I leave you to do that yourself?”

“I… I think I can manage today.” It had been a struggle at first, but Cor had been adamant that learning to dress himself was the first thing he needed to do. And as long as everything he needed was close by, he was managing pretty well most days. Buttons weren’t exactly practical anymore, his fingers not quite having developed the fine motor skills to be able to handle them, but he’d quickly learnt to find clothes that he could just pull on and off. They were more comfortable now he had to spend most of the day sitting down anyway…

Cor grinned, placing the pile of clothes onto the end of the bed. “I’ll get things set up outside. It’s gonna be hard work today, Prom, but I promise it’ll be worth it. You’ll see. You just have to believe in yourself.”

*******

He stared down at the camera, turning it over and over, suddenly painfully aware of how heavy it felt as he gripped it tightly against his chest, his hands trembling with the effort of having to hold the precious object. His fingers twitched ominously and he quickly laid the camera down on his knee, afraid if he didn’t he might drop it at any moment. Running his fingers over the cool, smooth metallic surface- so familiar yet at the same time strangely foreign- he noticed how stiff and uncoordinated they still felt, his fingertips moving clumsily over the buttons as though they’d never done it before and were unsure what was expected of them.

“You okay, Prommy?” Iris sat down next to him and placed one hand on top of his, squeezing gently as she pressed his fingers around the camera. Her face was etched with concern as she turned to face him, her eyebrows raised questioningly above dark eyes filled with confusion. 

“Sure…” He tried to smile though even to him it felt fake, like he was wearing a mask that hadn’t moulded properly to his own face. “It’s just…” He faltered, a small sigh escaping his lips in place of the words he'd been meaning to say. Iris was so positive, so convinced this was what he needed. How could he tell her he couldn’t do it, that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to take another picture? “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. I’m exhausted from Cor’s training and I…” He looked up guiltily, forcing another small, sad smile as he caught Iris’ eye. She blinked back at him, the expression on her face every bit as firm and determined as her brother’s. “Sorry… I guess I’m just tired. Cor worked me pretty hard, you know?” He laughed but the sound caught in his throat, coming out as more of a pathetic croak than the lighthearted chuckle he’d been going for.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you were doing that today too! Busy day, huh?” She giggled, her eyes bright as she pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “How’d it go? You manage to walk a little more today?”

“Yeah… it… it felt a little easier, like maybe I’m actually making some progress. I mean… I don’t think I’ll be walking on my own any time soon but even if I need to use the walker at least I’ll be able to get out of this thing.” He gestured towards the wheelchair. He didn’t hate it as much as he had done when he’d first started using it but he was still looking forward to being able to get rid of it. “We’re gonna practise a little more tomorrow, as long as I’m not too tired. Cor thinks the quicker I can rebuild some of the muscle in my legs, the easier it’ll be.”

“That’s great news, Prommy! I’m so proud of you.” 

Prompto cradled the camera in the dip between his thighs, steadying it with his hand before reaching up automatically to brush his bangs away from his forehead. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, biting his bottom lip and blushing as his hand met short, rough bristles instead of the soft curtain of blonde he’d been expecting. He ran his fingers over the top of his head gingerly, tugging at a patch of hair just above his ear as though he expected the movement to make his hair grow back faster. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he removed his hand and placed it back on the camera, pressing it down hard to stop it from shaking. He knew his hair was growing back slowly, and it was definitely longer now than it had been when he’d first arrived at Cape Caem, but it was still shorter than he’d ever had it before in his life and no matter how hard he’d tried he hadn’t managed to get used to it, the sharp spikes still an unwelcome surprise whenever his hand rubbed against them.

Cor had raised his eyebrows in shock the first time he’d examined the injury on the back of his head, calloused fingers pressing as delicately as they knew how against the edges of the scar, his eyes narrowed in concern as he stepped out of the room to speak to the doctor. It had been particularly painful that day, the bottom part near his neck hot enough that he could feel the heat radiating out of it when he raised his hand to scratch at it. It had been infected, he’d learnt later, the puckered edges swollen and pulling apart to reveal the only partially healed, moist and oozing wound. It had been the sole reason he hadn’t been able to get out of the hospital as quickly as he’d wanted to. It’d taken over a week for the infection to leave his body, and another couple of days before the doctor was happy he could leave with Cor. The wound must have looked awful but Cor hadn’t said anything. Not then. Not when the nurse had come in to clean it, sterilising the area with an ointment that stung so badly it made Prompto’s eyes water. Not when she’d come the next day to change the dressing, lifting it gently to avoid it catching painfully on the longer strands of hair it had unavoidably stuck to. It was only later, when he’d settled into Cape Caem, that he’d brought up the subject.

“Let’s get the rest of that hair cut then,” he’d said brightly, running his hands through his own short strands as he stared at Prompto across the breakfast table, a reassuring smile on his face as he gazed at the tangled mess of knots on the top of his head. 

Instinctively, Prompto had reached up to brush his bangs behind his ear, twisting one particularly long section around his fingers as he stared at the ground. It wasn’t exactly a surprise. He’d even thought himself about asking Cor to cut it, especially after overhearing a hushed conversation about how the longer strands were sticking to the wound and probably stopping it from healing as well as it should. But he hadn’t been brave enough. And he was terrified now, though he wasn’t quite sure why. After everything that’d happened, surely a simple hair cut was the least of his worries. 

But he’d still been nervous when Cor had headed to the bathroom to fetch the clippers, his heart pounding in his chest at the buzz as they were placed lightly just behind his ear. And he’d been horrified the first time he’d looked in the mirror, his face and scar fully exposed now his hair had been reduced to nothing more than faint blonde stubble.

It’d clearly been the right thing to do though as the wound had healed quickly after that, the edges knitting together firmly to create a smooth, pink line down the back of his head. His scalp itched a lot less too, though he often still found himself picking at the scar out of habit. And at least his hair was growing back evenly now, sticking up in short, prickly spikes- long enough for him to grasp between his fingers- in place of the soft, velvety pelt that’d been there a couple of weeks ago.

“Still feels weird, huh?” Iris gestured towards Prompto’s head and grinned.

“Yeah…” He pushed his glasses up his nose and looked away, suddenly self conscious and very aware of the burning heat that was spreading across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. “Just taking a while to get used to, I guess.” 

“I understand. It _is_ very different, and sometimes different can be a little tricky to deal with to start with.” Iris tucked her own hair behind her ear, her forehead wrinkled as though she wasn’t sure of the right words to say. 

“It’s not just different though, is it?” Prompto glanced up over his glasses, his vision blurred by the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He tried to blink them away, embarrassed by how upset he was getting. This was a good day. He’d done well. He’d managed to walk a little. He should have been happy, not crying over something so insignificant. “It’s horrible. I look horrible.” He ran his hand over his head again, pausing this time when he reached the top of the scar- still slightly raised and standing out from the rest of his scalp. He traced it with his finger from the crown of his head down to his neck, his breath trembling when he eventually drew his hand away.

“What? No way! Please don’t ever say that about yourself.” Iris grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly, the camera wobbling precariously in his lap with the force of her movement. 

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbled, squeezing back before pulling his hand away and pushing his glasses up again. “I just hate it, that’s all. I hate all of this.” He swallowed, forcing down the lump that had formed in his throat and tightening his grip on his camera. His fingers picked nervously at the edge of the lens cap, flicking it on and off repeatedly, the rhythmic movement and clicking sounds helping to calm his breathing. 

“I know, Prommy. I know you hate it. I know you feel self conscious, and I don’t blame you.” Iris shuffled closer to him along the bench so their legs were pressed together, the heat that emanated off her skin and into his gently reassuring. “But you know what?” She waited for him to look at her before continuing. “ _I_ don’t hate it. I think it’s cute. Honestly, I do!” Her eyes were wide as she spoke, her face as open and honest as always. She rested on his shoulder, the soft waves of her bangs tickling his neck as she nuzzled into him. 

Prompto smoothed her hair down, running his fingers softly through the waves before relaxing his own head down lightly on top of hers. 

“Thanks, Iris.”

“And besides…” She glanced up at him, eyes twinkling as they peeked out from behind her hair. “It looks soooo much better than it did before. That was _not_ a good look- not for you, not for anyone!” She giggled, her laughter softening the air around them as though the gentleness of the sound could make the sunlight more golden and the sea sparkle more brightly. Iris was a good person to have around. It was impossible to feel down for long when she was nearby. And maybe she was right. Maybe he _was_ ready to start taking pictures again. Maybe it would help to have something else to focus on.

Prompto picked up his camera, holding it tightly in both hands as he lifted it up. “So… I guess it’s photo taking time. Got any requests?” His words sounded brighter and more cheerful than they had in weeks and he held the camera in front of his face, his fingers more confident now as they skimmed over the buttons.

“I thought you said it was a bad idea…” Iris raised one eyebrow, her lips twisted into a playful smirk despite her attempts to look serious.

“Okay, okay.” Prompto laughed and pointed the camera in Iris’ direction, his forefinger pressing down firmly to capture his first picture in months. “You were right. It’s a great idea.” He turned the camera to face him, smiling to himself as he admired the image on the screen. Not bad considering how out of practise he was. “So… requests? Unless you just want me to take pictures of you all afternoon.”

“No way! You know how much I hate it when you take photos when I’m not expecting it. You gotta give me warning first!”

“So…?” He raised the camera again with a grin, his finger poised to snap another shot.

“The ocean please!” Iris jumped up quickly, jolting the wheelchair forward unexpectedly as she grabbed the handles. “It always looks beautiful this time of day.”

“Of course.” He turned to grin at her, the feeling welling up inside him surely matching the expression of excitement on her face. “Lead the way, Iris. One ocean photo coming right up!”

********

By the time they made it to the beach, the sun was beginning to drop below the horizon, the last fiery red threads of light lingering in the sky and mingling with the rolling clouds. From where Prompto sat, camera in hand, elbow propped up on the ledge of a perfectly positioned wall, he had a perfect view of the sky- awash and ablaze with the colours found at the heart of fire. The orange haze spilled over the moving sea and reflected off every wave, twinkling and sparkling like diamonds. The birds sang too, huddled with their loved ones as they anticipated the day’s end, mere silhouettes as they swooped over the surface of the water to gather one final meal for their families. A feeling of calm swept through Prompto and he quickly relaxed back into his favourite past time, snapping picture after picture as though he’d never stopped. Iris helped too, of course, helping him adjust the position of his wheelchair to allow him to capture each version of the ever-changing sky, the the once cotton-white clouds being gradually stained by the sun’s rays- first orange, then red, then eventually- as they began to pack up and head back to the house for dinner- a chalky mauve, melting away as darkness enveloped its surroundings.

“So beautiful…” Iris murmured as she helped wheel him back up the sandy slope towards home.

And it was. It was almost as if he’d forgotten how beautiful the world around him was, which was strange considering how much beauty he’d always managed to see in the smallest things. It was why he’d gotten into photography really- so he could capture what he saw and share it with the ones he loved. Since Altissia, that beauty had been hidden, and he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, how much he’d missed finding it in the most unexpected of places. It been like he’d been living in a world full of dull blacks and greys, the colours sucked away and replaced by more muted shades.

But suddenly he felt different. He felt alive again as he stared up at the sky, sequin-stars like the glowing embers of a dying fire winking down at him.

“Iris,” he whispered, reaching automatically for his camera. “Stop for a minute…”

“Sure. Anything wrong?”

“No…” he murmured, turning the camera over and fiddling with a few of the settings. Holding the camera had been fine but these finer movements were still a struggle and he sighed as he looked towards Iris for help. “Can you help with this? I don’t seem to be able to…”

Iris knelt down beside him and took the camera, frowning in concentration as she tried to follow his instructions. “What did I just do?” she laughed as she placed the camera gently back into his hands, sitting down on the floor next to him and pulling her legs up to her chest. 

“Night settings,” he explained, tilting his head back and pointing the camera up towards the sky. “And a couple of other things. Things get all blurry when it’s dark if I don’t change them, and I gotta get a shot of this.” He gestured briefly towards the lighthouse, holding the camera as steady as possible as he’d waited for just the right moment. The muscles in his arms were burning with the effort but it was worth it. The clouds parted all of a sudden and the lighthouse was completely transformed by the light of the moon which hung like a great luminous pearl in a cloudless sea, bleeding steams of silver onto everything around it. 

He captured it as well as he could but, as always, the real thing was far more beautiful than any photo could ever be. They sat there watching for a while, Prompto’s hand brushing against the top of Iris’ head as she rested it against his knee. Other than the soft rhythm of the waves as they crashed gently against the shore it was silent, and the calmness almost caused him to drift off to sleep. But it quickly got cold without the sun to warm the air and Prompto started shivering, pulling his sleeves down to cover his hands and reaching up to pull his hood over his head.

“You two have fun?” Cor met them at the door, leaning down to help Prompto to his feet and wrapping an arm carefully but tightly around his back for support. “You’re not letting her wear you out too much, I hope?” Cor grinned as Prompto reached an arm around his neck, leaning heavily against him as he took a delicate step towards the table, his legs shaking with the effort of moving. 

“Hey!” Iris laughed, taking Prompto’s other arm and squeezing it tightly. “Why is it always my fault? _He’s_ the one who wanted to stay out and take more pictures. I practically had to force him to come back here! And anyway, I believe _you_ were the one working him hard earlier!”

Cor looked at Prompto, eyes narrowing and his face adopting a much more serious expression as he looked him up and down. “You do look tired, Prom. You sure you’re okay? Need me to get you anything?”

“I got a little caught up itaking pictures I guess…” Prompto tried to smile, suddenly aware of how exhausted he felt. “Maybe I overdid it a little but I’m okay- I promise.” He took a deep breath as he prepared to take another step. His body ached and his head was starting to throb, the pain already building behind his eyes. If it got much worse he’d have to take some of the painkillers the doctor had prescribed for him, but he didn’t want to. He hated the way they made him feel- detached, like he was floating away from his body. It’d been a good feeling when he was in the hospital but now he wanted to be able to focus, to concentrate. He needed to feel alive and present.

“Think you can make it? I can grab your wheelchair…”

“No… I… I want to try,” Prompto murmured, gritting his teeth and taking another step. His legs felt heavy, as though weights were attached to each of his feet and he was having to carry them along with them. He knew he wasn’t so much walking himself this time as being dragged along by Cor, and his right foot in particular seemed to stubbornly scrape along the ground no matter how much he tried to lift it… But it was still progress, another step in the right direction. And besides, Cor was far too determined to let him fail.

The twenty metres across the kitchen felt like a marathon and with each step his legs felt weaker and weaker. He was breathing heavily by the time he reached the table and the pain in his head was almost unbearable.

“There you go.” Cor helped him onto the chair, ruffling his hair affectionately as he released his arm. “Good job, Prom. You’ve done well today.” 

Prompto leant forwards, pressing his knuckles firmly into his right thigh in an attempt to stop the cramp that was threatening to spread down his leg. He could feel his cheeks burning with the exertion and shook his head as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his nose. He reached up to brush it away, taking off his glasses, which always steamed up when he got hot, and placing them down beside him. Closing his eyes, he leant his head back, sighing deeply as he tried to relax.

“You hungry? I’ve got some cup noodles around here somewhere… that okay for you?” 

“That’d be great.” Prompto opened his eyes a crack and forced another smile in Cor’s direction. “Thanks, Cor.”

“No problem, Prom.” Cor looked up from where he was rummaging through the cupboards and shot a quick smile in Prompto’s direction before returning to his search. “And maybe when you’ve eaten you’ll feel well enough to show me some of the pictures you took.”

“Yeah… yeah… I’d like that.” Prompto closed his eyes again and let his hand drift to where his camera hung around his neck, the weight heavy yet reassuring. Yes, he felt exhausted and it would probably take his body a day or so to recover, but it had been worth it. For the first time, he felt like he was making progress. He felt like himself again. And he was determined to keep fighting for his recovery. Whatever life threw at him now, he was ready.

********

After dinner, he’d perked up just enough to show Cor his pictures, smiling proudly as he examined them carefully one at a time. His headache hadn’t improved though, magnifying to the point that the flashes of light clouding his vision made him crave darkness, quiet and stillness. He was nauseous too, and had managed only a couple of mouthfuls of cup noodle before he’d had to ask Cor to get rid of it, the smell alone enough to make him want to vomit. Cor had made it as far as picture number 8 before the throbbing became so violently painful around the back of his skull that he wondered for a moment how it hadn’t cracked open.

He’d had to ask Iris to get his medication at that point, reluctant though he’d been to take it. And sure enough, it hadn’t been long before his mind had started to cloud over and the hazy feeling he hated so much engulfed his body. He hadn’t even had the energy to climb into his wheelchair so Cor had carried him to his room, lifting him up so gently it’d felt like he was floating in mid air. At some point he must have passed out because he didn’t remember being put to bed, didn’t remember the pillows being adjusted so they cushioned the back of his head like a piece of armour and the blankets being tucked in securely around him. 

When he woke up, the pain in his head had dulled to a mild ache and, though his muscles still felt weak and tired, he felt more alert than he’d expected to. He opened his eyes, surprised to see the room still shrouded in darkness, the light from the moon the only thing illuminating the walls. The medication normally knocked him out for a long time- that was one of the reasons he hated taking it. But if it was still this dark it must still be night, which would mean he couldn’t have slept for more than 5 or 6 hours. 

He frowned in confusion. That couldn’t be right. Last time he’d been forced to take those damn things he’d slept for almost an entire day. There was no way he could have woken up naturally after such a short time. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t right.

“Iris? Cor?” The words were slurred and barely recognisable and Prompto groaned in frustration. His tongue felt swollen, as though it was taking up twice as much room in his mouth, and seemed to be completely uncooperative. He struggled to sit up, leaning across to pick up his glasses before trying again, panic rising in his chest as he continued to survey the dark room. “Cor? Are you there?”

“Prompto?” The door opened and Cor appeared, silhouetted against the light of the hallway. “Everything okay?”

“What time is it?” He barely recognised his own voice, the words sticking in his throat despite his attempts to speak slowly. 

“It’s a little after 1.” Cor moved across the room to perch on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat down. He placed a hand on Prompto’s knee, letting it linger there as he switched on the lamp, the bulb just bright enough to cast a gentle glow across the room. 

“In the morning?” Prompto pushed himself further up in bed, his eyes wide as he looked towards Cor for answers.

“No… in the afternoon. You slept for a long time but I told Iris not to wake you. Thought it might help your headache to get a good rest.” Cor smiled but even in the darkness Prompto could see his face was strained, the corners of his mouth tight and the lines under his eyes more pronounced than usual. There was something about his expression he couldn’t read and he took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the fact his palms were clammy and his mouth even dryer than it had been when he’d woken up.

“But… I… I don’t understand. How… how can… how can it be afternoon? It’s dark… isn’t it? The sun… it hasn’t risen, has it?”

“No…” Cor turned his head away so his face was concealed once again by shadow. He’d noticed the days getting shorter but for the sun to disappear completely… it just didn’t make sense. This had to be some kind of dream, his mind playing tricks on him, a side effect of the medication maybe? It couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t…

They sat in silence for a while, Cor’s hand still resting reassuringly on Prompto’s knee. And as he stared out of the gap in the curtains at the black, void-like ocean covered by an inky blanket of sky, his mind drifted to thoughts of Noct. No sunlight meant only one thing, and it was something that was too painful to even consider.

“But… but why?” He asked the question anyway, his voice trembling through fear alone this time.

Cor looked at Prompto sadly, opening his mouth to reply before changing his mind and slumping down with a sigh. Running the back of one of his hands over his eyes, he cleared his throat and climbed to his feet, his voice taking on a much lighter and more cheerful tone as he tried to change the subject.

“I’ll get you some water. That’ll help you feel better.” 

Prompto was almost grateful for the lack of a proper answer. He knew they needed to talk about it at some point but right now he didn’t want his fears confirmed. He needed to fully take it in himself first, let his mind understand the implications before he tried to discuss it. If what he was thinking was true, it changed everything. Not just for him but for the whole of Eos…

Cor moved slowly towards the door, his movements slow and laboured as though he was utterly exhausted, leaving Prompto alone with his thoughts. It wasn’t until much later that day, when he’d woken up enough to be carried into the kitchen, that he managed to gather enough strength to ask the question he’d been dreading. 

“Do you think Noct’s okay?”

Prompto avoided looking at Cor, instead staring blindly at the photo which was still displayed on the screen of camera from the night before. Photo number 8. Probably the most beautiful of them all. But if he’d have known what he knew now- that this sunset would be the last sunset, that the sun wouldn’t rise again the next morning, that he wouldn’t be able to watch as the sun spread like a fire, setting the sky alight with every shade of red you could imagine… if he’d have known, he’d have savoured it more. He’d have picked his position more carefully, made sure to capture each of the colours perfectly. But more so- he would have fixed it permanently in his memory, a virtual photograph to remind him of the beauty.

“He has to be okay, right? I mean… there’s no way Gladio and Iggy would ever let anything happen to him…” He looked up now, tearing his eyes away from the photo to meet Cor’s across the table.

“I don’t know, Prom. I don’t know.” Cor squeezed his hand, his dull, grey eyes filled with sadness as he gazed at him. “We can only hope.”

Yes, he still had hope. He _had_ to have hope. After all, this was Noct. He’d promised to come back to him, and Noct always kept his promises.


	16. Ignis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis and Gladio return to Cape Caem, but something is missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long time since I've updated this and I'm sorry. There's been a lot of real life stuff happening and I also got a little unmotivated...
> 
> This was supposed to be the final chapter but I don't want to end it just yet- and I'm still deliberating over the ending- so there will be one more coming along soon. I've been doubting my writing a lot but I'm hoping that posting this will re-energise me to finish this in the way I want.
> 
> Your lovely feedback and kudos and comments are the only things stopping me from giving up, so thank you.

_“Wow…”_

_He’d felt a hand grab his shoulder, bringing him to a standstill. He’d stumbled slightly then, surprised to be stopping so suddenly, but had quickly regained his balance as the hand tightened its grip, the palm cool yet clammy even through the material of his shirt. Straightening up, he’d pushed his glasses up his nose and forced down the frustration that was building in his chest. Something was happening- something big- and he wasn’t able to see it._

_“I presume we’ve reached our destination successfully,” he’d said in response to the silence, clearing his throat to break the tension that hung in the air._

_“Yeah, this is definitely it.” Gladio had taken his arm then and led him forwards, his breath heavy and uneven in Ignis’ ear. He’d gritted his teeth, each step more unsteady than the last as he tried to navigate the unfamiliar terrain. “You feel anything, Noct?”_

_Noct hadn’t replied, instead stopping still just behind Ignis. His breathing was quick and shallow, and each breath caused a small gust of cool air to catch the hairs on the back of Ignis’ neck, making him shiver with cold._

_“What does it look like?” He’d hated even asking the question, wishing more than ever that he could see it with his own eyes. Deep down, he hadn’t managed to stop himself thinking- hoping- the magic of the crystal might contain some sort of miraculous curative properties, that he’d be able to step close to it- perhaps placing a hand upon it- and magically regain his eyesight. But it was as dark as ever, as though both his eyes were completely sealed shut. If the crystal couldn’t heal him, nothing could. He’d quickly pushed the disappointment to the back of his mind though- there were much greater things to think about now, things that might decide the future of Eos. His own feelings were meaningless in comparison. “Is it what we expected?”_

_“I’m not sure any of us knew exactly what to expect, did we?” Gladio had snorted, the sound laced with more anxiety than happiness. “That was part of the problem- trying to find something we had no idea…”_

_“It’s **exactly** how I’d pictured it.” Noct had interrupted then, the heavy material of his jacket catching the back of Ignis’ hand as he’d brushed past. _

_“Might have been nice if you’d told us. If we’d known what to look out for, it might have made it a damn sight easier…” Gladio had mumbled under his breath as he stepped away, continuing to grumble almost inaudibly as he settled down a few metres away._

_Noct had ignored him- or maybe he simply hadn’t heard (after all, Ignis’ hearing was much more astute now than it had been before his loss of vision; perhaps he alone had witnessed Gladio’s complaints)- spinning around and grabbing hold of Ignis’ forearms. He gripped tightly, his fingertips pressing unknowingly into Ignis’ smooth flesh, his excitement causing him to use such force Ignis was sure his fingernails must have left deep, angry groves where they clung to him. When he spoke again, his voice sounded different. A mixture of elation and regret weaved its way through every word until Ignis had found himself listening more to the tone of his voice than what was actually being said. “Iggy- this is just how I dreamt it. It’s like I’ve seen it before… so many times. It’s like… it’s like I’ve come home, like it’s been waiting for me. This is how it’s meant to be. It’s how it was always meant to be. You understand that, don’t you?”_

********

“Iggy.” Gladio’s voice cut through his thoughts and he almost leapt out of his seat in surprise, relaxing back down only when he felt Gladio’s hand press softly against his knee. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He sighed in response, picking his glasses up from where they lay hooked around his other leg and sliding them onto his nose, adjusting them slightly before turning to face Gladio. He smiled briefly, placing his hand lightly on top of Gladio’s and squeezing. Gladio pulled away, clearing his throat awkwardly as he did so, and Ignis quickly clasped his hands tightly together as if it was what he’d meant to do all along, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the sudden change in atmosphere.

Silence hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground- a gaping void needing to be filled with sounds, words… anything. It gnawed at his insides as he sat there, each of his fingers light miniature weights pushing so firmly against the back of his own hands that it was beginning to hurt. It felt eerily unnatural, like a dawn devoid of birdsong, the silence clinging to the air like a poisonous cloud that any any moment could choke the life from them.

“Is everything alright?” He spoke more to break the tension than for any other reason, twisting his head to stare blankly out of the window in an attempt to hide his quivering lip and damp eyes, which he was sure were visible even through the dark lenses that now shaded them. 

“Just wanted to let you know we’re not far now. It’ll probably be about another hour- maybe less if we’re lucky.” Gladio paused, as if he was searching for the right thing to say. 

He was quieter than usual, more thoughtful, choosing his words carefully as though he was still afraid of saying the wrong thing. There was nothing Ignis wanted more than for things to go back to normal, for their friendship to go back to a time where conversation was free-flowing and effortless. But things weren’t like that anymore. There was more tension between them. Gladio still cared- that much was clear to anyone. But things weren’t easy now. It was like they were two strangers getting to know each other for the first time. Ignis knew he’d changed, and maybe this was all his fault. Gladio had tried to get him to open up- he’d tried everything to help him get through this, even at the expense of his own health. But Ignis had pushed him away with angry and hurtful words, though he hadn’t meant a single thing he’d said. All he wanted now was to reach out and pull Gladio close to him, to bury his head in his chest and weep, but even though he was sitting so close their legs were touching, it felt like there was a deep, deadly chasm between them, one that he might never be able to cross again. 

“You want me to get you anything? The dining car is open if you want some food? I mean… this may come as a surprise- and don’t tell him I told you this- but Cor’s idea of ‘cooking’ isn’t…” His voice trailed off and he chuckled to himself at the thought. “Well, don’t expect top quality food, that’s all I’m saying!”

“Cor Leonis can’t cook? I’m truly shocked!” 

Ignis glanced back in Gladio’s direction, pushing his glasses up his nose and raising one eyebrow in mock surprise. He smiled at the sound of Gladio’s laughter, freer and more genuine this time as though, for a moment at least, things were back to normal. He allowed himself a soft chortle too, suddenly realising how tense the muscles in his face were, how tightly his jaw was clenched and his brow furrowed. Running his fingers across his forehead to smooth out the lines, he paused momentarily to firmly massage the area between his eyes. 

“Better keep that sarcasm under wraps when we get to Cape Caem.” Gladio was still laughing, his hand now resting comfortably on Ignis’ shoulder. “Cor might think you’re trying to compete with him… and he’s not called Cor the Immortal for nothing!”

“I’ll bear that in mind…” 

He forced another chuckle but this time it seemed to catch uncomfortably at the back of his throat and he quickly turned the sound into a cough. Shrugging Gladio off he reached for his cane, the smoothness of the handle reassuring as it slid into place against the clammy skin of his palm. It felt hard to laugh these days, almost as if he’d left it so long that his body had forgotten how to make it happen. But then… there hadn’t been much to laugh about recently. Even now it felt wrong, somehow, that laughter was still allowed to exist alongside so much sorrow. And when he laughed, or even when he felt himself getting close to feeling happy, he couldn’t stop himself thinking about everything that had happened. About Luna, who had never had the opportunity to live the long, happy life she deserved. About Prompto, who he should have be able to protect. About Noct…

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?” Gladio’s voice was softer now, the frivolity of the previous conversation long gone in favour of a more sombre tone. 

Ignis sighed again, slumping down and resting the side of his face on the window. He’d always appeared older than his age- both in appearance and character- but sometimes it felt like he’d aged a hundred years in just a few months. His joints and muscles ached even when he was completely still and his head constantly bothered him, the burning behind his eyes now more a result of stress and anxiety than a side effect of his injury. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead more firmly against the glass, gratefully allowing the cool drops of condensation to soothe his headache.

“How can I not?”

“It’s what he wanted, Iggy.” Gladio spoke slowly, his attempts to sound measured and controlled appreciated despite the fact he wasn’t being entirely successful in his attempts to maintain his cool. It was only natural that the first signs of frustration were beginning to creep in. After all, they’d had this discussion so many times over the last week, debating it over and over again, Ignis repeating the same concerns, the same regrets, the same insecurities every single time. Gladio had tried to help, constantly reassuring in his usual logical way, recounting the events in what was probably a far more accurate account of what had happened than the picture Ignis had in his head. But no matter what he said, Ignis continued to fret, his mind locking firmly on to one thing and one thing only: that he should have been able to do more. That Gladio had managed to be patient for so long, despite what he too must be feeling, was nothing less than a miracle.

Ignis heard a rustle of material as Gladio shifted to face him, the smooth leather of his jacket grazing against his arm as he shuffled closer. “I know you think it’s your fault, that you should have protected him. But there was nothing you could have said that would have stopped him. I need you to believe that. There was nothing you could do.”

“But I should have…”

“Iggy- stop!” Gladio grasped him by the shoulders, gripping him so tightly that for a minute Ignis felt sure he was going to shake him. “I need you to stop talking like that. Please…” His voice cracked again and trailed off leaving behind a silence which was only broken by ragged, uneven breathing.

Ignis reached up, searching silently for Gladio’s arms and tugging them gently away from his shoulders. Gladio’s muscles were trembling beneath Ignis’ fingers and he quickly found his hands, taking them in his and holding them gently. He half expected Gladio to pull away, to create some distance between them, but he allowed himself to be held, relaxing as Ignis began to run his thumb over strong, rough knuckles in an attempt to reassure and comfort. A long, drawn out breath left Gladio’s lips, a burning ball of air that must have lodged itself stubbornly inside his chest searing the walls of his lungs as he held it there. Ignis pulled him closer, tightening his grip on his hands when he realised that his whole body was shaking with the effort of trying to hold back his tears. His chest heaved one last time and a loud sob escaped, so full of pain and despair that Ignis didn’t have to think twice. He wrapped his arms around Gladio’s shoulders and let him bury his face in his chest, running his hands through long, tangled hair and whispering softly into his ear as he waited for the crying to abate. How many times had Gladio done this for him? It was only right he repay the favour… 

It struck Ignis that, in all the time he’d known him, he’d never really seen Gladio cry. Not like this, anyway. There was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound, the sounds emerging from his chest more guttural and animalistic than human. He clasped onto Ignis’ shirt for support, his fingers clawing desperately at the material, his body continuing to shudder as he attempted to stifle his sobs and hide his grief.

By the time he eventually pulled away, Ignis’ shirt was damp from the salty tears but Gladio’s breaths were softer and more controlled, the shutters back down and his emotion walled off behind a mask of shield-like determination. 

“He had that look on his face- the one that you always said reminded you so much of King Regis.” Gladio swallowed, sitting up straighter but letting one hand linger on Ignis’ knee. “We couldn’t have stopped him. It wouldn’t have been right to, anyway. This needed to happen. You know that as well as I do.”

“I know. I just…” Ignis stopped suddenly. Gladio was right. The decision had been taken out of their hands. And if Noct had been able to face up to his own destiny, to fulfil it so willingly and courageously despite not knowing what the future held, the least he could do was accept it and move on. It was time to put his own regrets aside and find a way to move forwards- not just for himself, but for Gladio and Prompto too. 

“You just?” Gladio leant forwards, his head so close to Ignis’ face that his hair tickled his chin. He squeezed his knee again, urging him to continue, a silent signal to let him know that it was okay to talk.

“It doesn’t matter…”

Gladio paused for a few moments but didn’t push any further, and Ignis appreciated the fact he was simply giving him time to continue if he changed his mind. Eventually he got to his feet, leaning across to grab Ignis’ empty coffee cup. “You should eat something. I’ll go and grab us a couple of sandwiches.” 

Ignis shook his head slowly. There was no denying he felt a little better but he still didn’t feel like he could possibly eat anything. His stomach felt tight and full, the knot that had settled there when they’d found the crystal stubbornly swelling to take up as much room as possible. 

“I appreciate the offer but I seem to have lost my appetite.”

“A coffee then at least?”

“Coffee is good.” Ignis smiled, brushing his hair back from his face and readjusting his glasses. The coffee from the dining car was no Ebony, that was for sure, but it wasn’t bad. And any coffee was better than no coffee at all. 

Gladio grunted in response and Ignis listened to his departing footsteps, the clip-clopping of his shoes against the uncarpeted train aisle fading as he made his way towards the next carriage. The clattering came to a sudden halt, allowing Ignis to tune into Gladio’s steady breathing at the other end of the aisle. 

“It’s going to be okay, you know?” Ignis didn’t need his vision to tell that Gladio was smiling, and the confidence and optimism in his voice was so contagious that Ignis felt his own lips twist upwards into a tiny grin. “Noct knows what he’s doing.”

“I know…” That last conversation between them had been circling round and round in his mind like an endlessly-rotating carousel at a fairground. But his mind had twisted it somehow, tainted it so that his memory was full of sadness and pain. He realised that now. The picture he’d been seeing was all wrong. Noct hadn’t been afraid after all. He’d been more confident than ever in his decision- not resigned to his fate as Ignis had believed but eager and excited to embrace it, whatever that meant for his future. He still couldn’t bring himself to be fully optimistic, to truly believe Noct would come back and save them all, but it certainly helped to know that he’d been fully aware of what he was doing.

“Good,” Gladio replied, the hinges of the carriage door opening with a loud creak as he swung it open. “I won’t be long. Try to get some rest while you wait.”

Then he was gone, the door closing with a soft thud behind him, and Ignis was left once again in silence. But now it felt different. This silence was comfortable, filled with a warmth and peacefulness that reminded Ignis of home. He closed his eyes and leant his head back, letting go of his cane and letting it drop softly to the ground by his feet. In a couple of hours he’d be back with Prompto, and then things really would be okay.

********

_He’d stood there staring towards where he thought Noct had been standing, trying to picture him in his mind. Blue-black hair falling down over his face, bright eyes betraying so many hidden emotions… He'd been able to see his face behind his closed eyes but something wasn’t quite right. Some of the details were missing: the shape of his nose, his smile, the fine lines that had begun to form around his eyes more recently. It was Noct’s face but at the same time it wasn’t really him. Not all of him, anyway. He’d taken a deep breath at that realisation, clenching his fists in his pockets as he tried to resist the temptation to run his hands over Noct’s face, to examine the tiny details that made him unique. He hadn’t mentioned this to anyone, and he probably never would, but the faces of his friends were becoming less and less vivid in his memory, the details becoming blurred the longer he went without seeing them. And it scared him that one day not too far from now he might not be able to picture them at all, that he might completely forget what they looked like._

_“Ignis,” Noct had placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, his voice sounding so like his father's that Ignis had stood up a bit straighter, forgetting for a moment that it was Noct rather than Regis who was standing in front of him._

_“Noct…” Ignis had replied, his eyes brimming with tears behind his glasses. He’d reached up to remove them, running a hand hurriedly over his eyes in an attempt to hide his sadness, the roughness of the scar drifting down onto his cheek still something of a shock as his fingers drifted over it. “You don’t have to do this. There must be another way. If you will only give me a little more time, I am sure I can find an alternative solution. One that doesn’t involve you…” He’d paused, his lower lip trembling as he’d thought about what he was saying. He’d wanted to say, “one that doesn’t involve you giving up your life,” but he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words out loud. Saying it out loud made it real, and he wasn’t ready for that. He’d taken a deep breath to compose himself, letting it out slowly and shakily before beginning the sentence again. “One that doesn’t involve **this.”** _

_He may not have said the words, but it had still been clear what he’d been getting at and Noct had tightened his grip on his shoulder, his hand surprisingly steady in comparison to Ignis’ trembling muscles._

_“This is the only way, Iggy.” He’d felt Noct tightly wrap his arms around him, pulling him into one final embrace, and Ignis had found his chest heaving with silent, empty sobs that had seemed to emerge from nowhere. “I know you’re trying to protect me, and I appreciate it- I really do. But you’ve done your job. You’ve done more than your job. Now you have to let me do mine.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. You're all wonderful <3


End file.
